


Come Lie With Me

by Arthur Autumn (Arthur_Autumn)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Brony!Liam, Comedy, Drag Queen Zayn, Drama, FTM Niall, Genderfluid Character, Multi, Romance, genderfluid!harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arthur_Autumn/pseuds/Arthur%20Autumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he tried to flirt with the prettiest girl in the club, Louis knew nothing about androgyny and drag queens and he didn't even know what the words 'bicurious' or 'genderfluid' meant. So imagine his surprise when, weeks later, he had to lipsynch to RuPaul and ABBA at the same club with his new boyfriend's flat mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night Is Young and Full of Surprises

‘Still thinking ‘bout her, Louis?’ asked Liam.

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he said, taking a sip of his beer.

‘Sorry, Miss Congeniality.’

‘Shut. The fuck. Up.’

Yes, Louis was really pissed off that night, and the reason was simple: his girlfriend, whom he had been dating for four years, had broken with him that day. Wait, no: _he_ broke up with her. Telling himself that was apparently supposed to make him feel better somehow. It was not working.

There was another reason he was annoyed; Liam had had the _amazing_ idea of taking him out to cheer him up. Where did they go?

‘A gay club, Liam?’ Louis asked again, loud enough so his friend could hear him over the sound of a Kylie Minogue song. ‘Seriously?’

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘I’m not gay.’

‘Nor am I.’

‘Then why are we here? To “try something new”?’

‘You’re being very negative, mate,’ said Liam. ‘Don’t you know there’s always tons of girls in this kind of places?’

‘Gay girls,’ said Louis.

‘Well, yes, but there’s also a lot of straight girls that come here ‘cause they feel safer. You know, ‘cause guys don’t bother them as much. And I’m sure there’s some bi girls as well.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Liam, this is the worst plan you’ve had since the fake tattoo sleeves.’

The other boy protested. ‘Oi, the fake tattoos were a brilliant idea.’

‘Liam, they were _My Little Pony_ tattoos.’

Liam said nothing. A Lady Gaga song started to play and someone shouted ‘Yaaasss, mama, slaaayyy!’

‘Look, mate, just try to relax. A day is a day.’

‘I hate this song.’

‘Louis.’

‘Okay, okay,’ said Louis, finally giving up. ‘I’ll try. All for my best Brony friend.’

‘Eh, I’m not a Brony.’

‘That’s not what the Princess Celestia poster you have in your room says,’ Louis laughed.

‘At least you’re not angry any more,’ Liam said with a smile.

‘Shut the fuck up.’

 

Liam spent the next two hours trying to hit on girls. Louis spent those two hours trying to save Liam every time they tried to hit him. He even had to say he was his too drunk boyfriend, please forgive him, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

‘One day, you’re gonna get killed,’ he said.

‘Nah, you’ll save me.’

‘Liam, I swear to God, if you weren’t my friend, I would punch you in the face.’

‘Aw, at least you consider me your friend,’ he said, going for a hug.

‘Don’t you touch me.’

‘This would be so much easier if Niamh was here.’

‘Niall,’ Louis corrected.

‘Yes, Niall, sorry. I still get confused.’

‘Well, it’s been a year already, so it’s about bloody time you get it right.’

Niall, who a year ago was still called Niamh and still made emphasis on how it was pronounced _Neev_ and not _Nee-am_ , was the first and only lesbian friend Louis and Liam had ever have. A year before, she started taking hormones and asking everyone to refer to her as him and call him Niall, and just the day before he had had his top surgery to get rid of his breasts. Liam was still having problems getting used to his friend’s new gender, though.

‘Well, now that she— he’s got no boobs any more, it won’t be that difficult,’ he said.

‘He still looks like Ellen DeGeneres, though.’

Liam laughed. ‘You’re lucky she’s not here. I mean he. You’re lucky _he_ ’s not here.’

‘He does look like her, it’s not my fault. It’s not like it’s something bad or anything, I mean, Ellen is awesome,’ Louis was saying, but then stopped.

At the other side of the club, with her back against the wall and a colourful cocktail in her hand, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Liam was saying something, but Louis was not paying attention— he was probably just talking about ponies. He was fascinated by the girl’s curly hair. And those lips, playing with the straw of her cocktail. Hot!

‘Louis, are you there? Hellooo.’ Liam waved a hand in front of Louis’ eyes, who suddenly woke up of his infatuation. ‘Dude, you all right?’

Louis pointed at the girl. ‘Do you see her?’

‘Who?’

‘The girl with the cocktail, there.’

‘That one with the curls?’

‘Yeah, that one.’

‘What about her?’

‘You’re looking at the future Mrs. Tomlinson.’

Liam did not look very convinced. ‘You sure?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘No, nothing, just,’ he started to say, but did not finish his sentence. Instead, he ordered another drink. ‘Why don’t you talk to her?’

‘Are you kidding? I’m not drunk enough. I would probably just stare at her face in awe and she would think I’m a psychopath.’

‘That can be fixed,’ Liam said, ordering another drink for Louis.

And another.

And another.

And another one.

 

Of what happened next, Louis just remembers that he drank and drank and drank until he could drink no more.

‘How are you feeling?’ asked Liam, slightly slurring his words.

‘Like death.’

‘Are you going to talk to her now?’

‘Fuck yes.’

He remembers walking towards his future wife. He remembers talking to her. He does not remember her voice, but he does remember her smile. He also remembers getting her phone number. He remembers them dancing, having a laugh, and getting into a taxi.

And that was it. That was all he could remember when he woke up in someone else’s bedroom.

He sat, looking around him. It was an interesting bedroom; the walls were covered in posters of bands like Cold Play and Sigur Rós and singers like Owen Pallet, Kate Bush and Patrick Wolf. ‘She’s indie,’ Louis thought— if in fact he was in the girl’s room and had not been kidnapped by some psycho. A psycho with very good taste in music, yes, but a psycho was a psycho.

He got out of the bed and saw he was naked except for his pants. His clothes were neatly folded in a chair. Had they had sex? He hoped they used protection, because he was not ready to be a father yet. He had to date her first, then meet her parents, she had to meet his parents too, then propose and _then_ they could start thinking about children.

When he opened the door of the room, he was welcomed by the very pleasant smell of breakfast. Music played in what he supposed was the kitchen. He did not know the song, but he liked it. What was that girl doing at the gay club last night, were all the music they played was Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and stuff like that, so different from this music?

He opened the door and saw the girl cooking, with her back to him. Her beautiful, muscular back.

Wait. Hang on a second. Muscular back?

He recognised the curls, even from behind, but her hips were not feminine at all. Same with her arms.

The girl seemed to notice Louis and turned around. ‘Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,’ she said with her masculine voice. She was only wearing underwear. Boy underwear. And last time Louis checked, women had boobs and they did not have penis-shaped bulges in their pants.

It occurred to him that, maybe, the future Mrs. Tomlinson was, in fact, a dude in a dress.


	2. There's No Need to Be a Dick

‘You’re a guy!’ Louis shouted.

The girl-who-was-obviously-not-a-girl’s eyebrow arched. ‘Well, today, yes, I am.’

Louis felt he was going to be sick. ‘You tricked me!’

‘I beg your pardon?’

Louis ran back to the bedroom, where he started to pick up his clothes. ‘You made me think you were a girl!’

‘What do you mean?’ the guy asked, following him. ‘Excuse me, love, but I tricked nobody. Or were you so drunk last night you can’t remember a thing?’

He had a point there. Maybe he had mentioned he was a transvestite and he could not remember? ‘I remember things,’ he said, trying to put his trousers on and almost falling trying.

The guy closed the door behind him and put his back against it like he had done last night at the club. He sure liked leaning against walls. ‘Okay, then tell me: what’s my name?’

Louis did not respond immediately, trying to remember, because he could not recall a single name. He stared at the room, looking for clues. ‘Er. Patrick? Owen? Bedside Table?’

‘Really? How many Bedside Tables do you know?’

‘Parents these days. They’re weird and I’ll bet my kidneys there’s some poor kid somewhere called Bedside Table Smith.’

The guy snorted. ‘Good one. You know I won’t let you out unless you remember, right?’

‘What?!’ said Louis, trying to get his head through the T-shirt’s neck.

‘Say my name and you’re free to go, Louis.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I don’t forget cute boys’ names. Your memory, however, seems to be worse than that of a clownfish with a hangover.’

‘Okay, listen here, you weirdo,’ said Louis, pointing at him. ‘I was drunk and you took advantage of me.’ He opened his eyes wide, realising something. ‘Oh my God, did you rape me as well?!’

The guy, who until now had looked pretty relaxed about the whole thing, pursed his lips and frowned. ‘Do you actually think I’m that kind of person? That I would take advantage of you? For your interest, you were the one who wanted “some action” last night, but I refused because I’m not a fucking rapist, okay? You slept, I slept, and that’s all that happened.’

Well now Louis felt like a proper dick.

The guy opened the door again. He was not feeling like being nice any more. ‘Take your things and get out. I don’t like people insulting me in my own house.’

‘Er. I’m sorry?’ he tried to apologise.

‘Out.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Louis laced his last shoe and started to walk towards the exit. ‘I’m really, really sorry, I didn’t mean to... Look.’ He turned around before opening the door. ‘I didn’t mean to be an ignorant fuck, it’s just... I actually thought you were a girl. I’m not gay or anything.’

‘I don’t care.’

Louis was about to say he was sorry again, but the bloke slammed the door in his face.

 

'You did what?!' asked Niall. He was lying on a hospital bed with bandages covering his chest.

'Oi, I didn't mean to!'

'You called him a rapist!' It was weird how Niall's voice had gotten deeper than Louis'. Maybe he should have some testosterone too. 'You can just imply that someone's raped you and expect them to be cool with that!'

'I know, I know, for fuck's sake! I was scared, OK?'

It had been almost an hour since the incident and the first thing he did was paying Niall a visit. Hospitals were always quiet, so it was good for his hangover. Also Niall was something like his personal Jiminy Cricket and Liam was nowhere to be found, and he needed to talk to someone.

'So you got drunk again and flirted with the wrong girl. Again.' Niall massaged his temples, trying to clear his mind.

'You say it like it happens all the time,' Louis protested.

'Really.' Niall was not asking. He bloody well knew Louis was not to be trusted around girls when he was drunk.

'Don't look at me like that!'

'OK, so this guy. You say he was dressed like a girl.'

'Yes, a transvestite.'

'Are you sure he never said he was a boy?'

Louis said nothing, because he was not sure at all, and that was the problem.

'Well...'

'So that's a no,' said Niall. 'Basically, the scene could have been like this: "hi, I'm Louis",' he said with a ridiculous high-pitched voice that obviously sounded nothing like Louis. '"I'm drunk, wanna woohoo in the bathroom?" And then he said: "hell yes!".' Now he was using a very deep voice. 'Let's go to _ma maison_ and have rough gay sex, I hope you’re a bottom, ohoho".' Niall started to laugh so hard his chest started to hurt. ‘Ouch, ouch, ouch!’

‘Ha! See? That’s karma,’ said Louis.

‘Shut the fuck up, you don’t even know what’s karma, you cunt.’

‘You dick.’

They both laughed. ‘Ugh, don’t make me laugh again. So, what are you gonna do now?’

‘I dunno. I’ll just go home and try to forget all this.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Louis!’

‘What?’

‘You can’t just insult someone and go home! Seriously, how do you even sleep at night?’

‘With two blankets, three pillows, and my _Sounds of The Jungle_ CD.’ He stood up from his chair. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home. Get well and blahblahblah, see you another day.’

‘You’re a wanker, Louis,’ Niall shouted at him as the boy left the room. ‘A massive cunt!’

 

‘Maybe Niall is right,’ Louis thought on his way home. ‘I should apologise, but...’ He was not sure he would be welcomed again. ‘At least today. I’ll try tomorrow. Yeah, he won’t be so pissed off tomorrow, right?’

Louis shared a flat with Liam. It was small, but enough for both of them—though it was awkward when any of them brought a girl home, because they could hear each other fucking through the walls. But let’s be honest: Liam was too shy to flirt with most women and when he did bring them home, about ninety-five percet of them ran away as soon as they saw Liam’s room with his big Princess Celestia poster and the four or five hundred _My Little Pony_ dolls—well, he called them figurines. The rest where usually fans of the show as well, and most of the time they would just stay up all night talking about their favourite characters and watching episode after episode. But yes, sometimes they fucked as well.

He arrived to the building and called through the intercom. There was no answer, so it meant Liam was not home. Where could he be?

He looked for his keys in his pocket, but could not find them. He tried the other pocket. Nothing.

‘Shite, shite, shite!’ he groaned, searching everywhere for them. ‘Oh, fuck! I’ve lost my keys!’ He took his phone and tried to call Liam, but it seemed to be off.

Louis kicked the wall, grunting, and sat on the floor by the door. Great. Now he would have to wait until Liam decided to come back home.

About ten minutes after that, his phone rang, but it was not Liam. ‘Harry?’ he read the name on the screen. He did not know any Harry. Who was this guy and how did his number get in Louis’ phone? He picked it up. ‘Hello?’

‘Aren’t you missing something?’ It was the guy's voice.

 


	3. Learn, Unlearn, Relearn, Repeat

‘What?’

‘I said, aren’t you missing something?’ the guy repeated.

‘Why do you have my number? And why do I have yours?’ Louis asked.

‘You’ve really forgotten everything, haven’t you?’ he laughed. Was he not angry with Louis any more? ‘Look in your pockets.’

‘Oh, yes, my keys!’

‘You left them here.’ Louis could hear how he played with them in his hands. ‘I’m guessing you want them back.’

‘Yes, please. I don’t know where’s my flatmate and I’ve been waiting outside for ages.’

‘Them come and get them.’ And with that, he hung up.

‘No, wait! Shite.’ Louis did not remember the guy’s address. How was he supposed to... ‘Oh. Yes. I have his number.’

He looked through his contacts, looking for the new number. Harry. So that was his name. It occurred to him that, if the name in the phone was Harry, then the guy must have told him. Therefore, he had never said he was a girl. Oops. So Niall was right.

‘Missing me already?’ Harry said when he picked the phone.

‘I don’t remember where’s your house, Harry?’

‘Oh, see who remembers my name now,’ he joked, and then gave Louis his address.

 

‘Looking for these?’ asked Harry when he opened the door, dangling the keys in front of Louis’ face.

‘Yes, thanks,’ said Louis, but when he was about to take the keys, Harry raised his arm above his head. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Oh, sorry, did you think I’d give you the keys just like that?’ he said with a smirk. ‘No, sir.’

‘Dude, those are my keys,’ said Louis.

‘What are the magic words?’

‘Please?’ he said, gritting his teeth.

‘No. Well, technically, _please_ is a magic word, but not the one I’m looking for right now.’

Louis tried to reach the keys, but Harry rose them higher. Stupid tall boy! Was he that tall before or was he wearing high-hill? Nope. Trainers. ‘Give me my keys!’

‘No need to get violent, love!’ Harry was having a giggle. ‘Just say the magic words and they’re yours.’

‘All right, all right!’ said Louis, giving up. ‘I’m sorry, OK?’ He tried to calm himself and breath. ‘I’m sorry I insulted you and said you raped me. I was a cunt and a dick and a total arsehole.’

Harry smiled. ‘That’s all what I wanted to hear,’ he said as he gave Louis the keys. ‘Could have sounded better without the slurs, but I accept your apologies.’

‘Good, good. So everything’s all right then? No bad feelings?’

‘No bad feelings,’ said Harry, but then sighed. ‘I still think it’s a pity such a cute boy is straight,’ he added like it caused he great pain.

Louis blushed a little—hey, a compliment was a compliment no matter whom it came from—as Harry started to close the door, but then his face turned even more red when his stomach started to rumble.

Harry laughed and opened again. ‘Well, well, well. Is that hunger or are you just happy I made waffles?’

‘I just haven’t eaten yet,’ said Louis, looking at his own shoes.

‘Good thing I never throw away food, right?’ He smirked again. ‘Also I cook when I’m angry and you, little boy,’ Harry said, poking Louis’ nose, ‘made me very angry today, so imagine how much food I made.’

‘I said I was sorry.’

‘I know, I’m just saying. So, care to join?’

Louis hesitated. He was hungry, but was it not awkward to have breakfast with someone not only you have just met but you have also called a rapist? ‘I’m not sure...’

‘Oh, come on,’ said Harry, pouting. ‘I don’t get to have breakfast with cute boys everyday. Just humour me, please?’

Louis was about to say something, but his stomach protested again. Oh, what the hell. ‘I guess I can stay for breakfast,’ he said, giving in.

Harry smiled from ear to ear, moved aside and pointed towards the kitchen with his head. ‘Come on in, then, Louis,’ he said, savouring the name like it was tastier that the food he had cooked.

 

The more Louis talked with him, the worst he felt about how he had treated him earlier that morning, because Harry was a really nice lad. And as it turned out, he was not a transvestite at all.

‘Genderfluid,’ Harry had corrected him when he brought it up. In fact, he had flinched and frowned when Louis said it was the first time he had had breakfast with on.

‘Sorry?’ Louis asked.

‘I’m not a transvestite, I’m genderfluid.’

‘What is that? Sorry,’ he apologised again, ‘it’s the first time I hear it.’

‘Don’t be sorry, it’s not like it’s common knowledge,’ Harry said, smiling, though Louis could tell it was a bit forced, and it made Louis feel worse. Jesus, Louis, stop talking. ‘Basically, sometimes I feel like a boy, others like a girl, sometimes both or even none. Transvestites usually just dress as the opposite gender for fun or because it turns them on.’

Louis tried to process it. It was literally the first time he has ever heard about someone like that. ‘Oh, so that’s what you meant this morning when I said you were a guy and you said “yes, today”?’

‘Exactly,’ said Harry with a smile.

‘And last night, you felt like a girl?’

‘You learn quick, young Padawan,’ said Harry with a laugh. This time, it was sincere.

‘Well, it’s not rocket science.’ Louis lied, taking a sip of his orange juice. Well, it was not exactly rocket science, mind you, but he was still trying to understand it and he did not want to offend Harry more than he already had. He made a mental note not to be too harsh with Liam next time he misgendered Niall, because that was probably how he felt.

‘I’m glad you understand it. Some people don’t.’

‘Well, I have a transsexual friend, so it’s not like I’m totally new to this whole thing.’ Was he actually using the trans friend card? ‘Jesus, I’m terrible,’ he though.

‘Oh, a transsexual friend?’ asked Harry, finishing his waffles. ‘MTF or FTM?’

The question took Louis with half a toast in his mouth. ‘What?’ Oh, God, what was he getting himself into?

‘Male to Female or Female to Male?’

‘Ah.’ Louis swallowed. ‘Female to Male. He had his top surgery yesterday, actually.’

They kept talking about other things, like football—Louis was a Doncaster Rovers fan, and although Harry liked football, he did not support any specific team—music, food, and by the time they had finished eating half of what Harry had cooked—‘Let something for my flatmate,’ he had said—Louis received a message from Liam.

‘Your girlfriend?’ Harry asked, smiling and perfectly aware that Louis had no girlfriend.

‘My flatmate. Haven’t seen him since yesterday. Wonder if he’s fine.’

Louis took his phone and read the message.

_Louis I nEd help! Im @ som crAZ bitchs hows & I cant git out!_

‘What the fuck?’ said Louis, trying to decipher Liam’s text. He could swear, that guy needed to learn how to write.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Harry as he put the plates and glasses in the sink. ‘Is he OK?’

‘I’m not sure, honestly...’ He wrote back:

_U ok mate???_

Seconds later, another text from Liam.

_IM FKN SCARD CUM QIX_


	4. Let's Never Talk About It

‘Can you see it?’ asked Harry.

‘Not yet,’ said Louis, looking at the numbers on the street from Harry’s car. ‘He said this was the street and that it was number 10.’

They were in a residential area, with Harry driving while Louis looked for number 10, though they were still on numbers 48 and 49. The traffic was slow, and Liam would not stop sending more texts. He had been able to find a letter in the house to see the address and that was why they knew where to look.

‘44,’ Louis read when the traffic started to be a bit quicker, ‘42, 40— stop!’

Harry slammed on the anchors. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, alarmed. Louis pointed at the pavement. ‘Oh.’

Running in nothing but his pants and cupping his crotch, was Liam. Some people honked their car’s horns at him and others laughed. ‘Liam!’ shouted Louis. ‘Here!’

Liam ran towards him, opened the door and got in. ‘Quick! She’s probably after me!’ He then seemed to notice Harry. ‘Sorry, who is this?’

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m Harry. You’re Liam then, right?’

‘Er, yes.’ He looked at Louis.

‘He’s a friend,’ said Louis. He was not ready to tell his best friend this was the person he had referred to as _the future Mrs. Tomlinson_ the night before.

‘I didn’t know you had a friend called Harry.’

‘I’m a new friend,’ said the boy.

‘OK, nice to meet you and stuff, but can we get out of here quick?’ the almost naked boy demanded.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll take you both home as soon as this ruddy congestion gets better.’

Liam then let out an unnaturally high pitched scream and hid behind the front seats. ‘She’s here!’ he said. Outside, there was a girl running with what Louis identified as the clothes Liam had wore the night before.

‘Liam!’ she shouted. ‘Come back, my love! Please, don’t run!’

Louis and Harry tried not to laugh while poor Liam was shaking behind them. ‘Looks like someone’s got a girlfriend.’

‘It’s not funny, Louis,’ he said. ‘She’s bonkers, I tell you.’

‘What on earth happened to you last night?’

Liam looked at him with fear in his eyes. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

Harry suddenly stopped smiling. ‘Are you okay, buddy? Do you want me to take you to the hospital or the police or something?’

Louis was rather surprised with his reaction. Hospital? Police? Why would he want to go to there? Liam looked at Harry too, slightly more relaxed. ‘No. No, don’t worry. I just wanna go home,’ he said.

And then, Louis realised that, whatever happened to Liam in that house, it was not a laughing matter. He could think of a couple of things that could had happened. All of them horrible. Few of them licit.

 

Louis took Liam’s favourite mug from the cupboard while the kettle boiled the water. Liam was in their living room, now dressed and calmer. Harry was with him—he did not think it would be wise to leave him alone for now—while Louis went to the kitchen. He looked for some of Liam’s lime tea bags, of which, fortunately, there was one left. Louis knew it was one of his favourites and it really help when he was having a bad day.

After a couple of minutes, Louis came out of the kitchen with a steamy cuppa and placed it in front of Liam. ‘Thanks,’ he said, taking it in his hands to warm them up, even if it was not really a cold day.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Louis. ‘Do you want to talk about it or...’ Liam shook his head.

‘Let’s not force it,’ added Harry. ‘He’ll tell you when he’s ready, I guess.’ Then his phone rang. ‘Oh, excuse me. Must be my flatmate.’ He stood up, took his phone and walked to the kitchen to have some privacy. ‘Hey, girl. You home yet?’ he said cheerfully, closing the kitchen door. ‘Yes, all for you. Oh, c’mon, you won’t get fat for eating some waffles.’

Liam tried to take a little sip of his tea. ‘Ouch. Hot.’

‘You should wait a little more,’ Louis told him.

Liam nodded. ‘He seems nice.’

‘Harry? Yes, he’s a nice guy.’

‘He looks familiar, though.’

Louis gulped. He had not even considered the possibility of Liam recognising him. ‘Well, of course, you met him last night too,’ he lied.

‘Did I?’ Liam asked.

‘Yes. I guess you were too drunk, but we met him yesterday at the club, after that girl ignored me?’ he said. He was hoping Liam would actually believe that lie.

Liam gave him a puzzled look. ‘Future Mrs. Tomlinson brushed you off? Dude, I’m sorry.’

Louis faked a smile. ‘No, don’t be. She just wasn’t the one. And then we met Harry, remember? He’s a nice and fun guy. He even offered to take me home.’

Liam tried to remember. ‘If you say so... Though I thought I left after you, not before, and I think I saw you leave with Future Mrs. Tomlinson.’ Louis gulped again, but Liam just shrugged. ‘Must be my imagination.’

‘Yeah, probably.’

They were silent for some time, with Liam finally starting to drink his tea, until the kitchen door opened. ‘How is he doing?’ asked Harry, putting his phone in his pocket and leaning against the wall.

‘Better, I think. I hope,’ said Louis. But then, he looked at Liam, and Liam was looking at Harry really weird. ‘Liam?’

‘Everything all right, buddy?’ asked Harry.

And then Liam opened his eyes really wide, like something had clicked in his mind. ‘It’s you!’ he said with a smile, really proud of himself, like a child who has completed his very first 50+ piece jigsaw puzzle. ‘I knew it, I knew it! You’re Future Mrs. Tomlinson!’


	5. Miss Veronica Malik

Louis’ face went chalk pale in about two seconds when he heard Liam. Harry just started laughing.

‘You’re that bird Louis liked!’ he said.

‘Liam!’ shouted his flatmate. ‘Stop talking nonsense!’

‘But he _is_! I mean she... He is she... She is he... Wait a second.’ Now Liam was confused again. ‘She’s a dude? He?’

Harry shook his head lightly, still smiling. ‘Should I tell him?’ He asked Louis.

The other boy sighed. God, Liam, why could you not just shut up and drink your fucking lime tea? ‘Leave him. He still has problems with Niall’s gender, God knows how long it’ll take him to get your thing.’

‘What thing?’ asked Liam. ‘I’m not a child, Louis. I’m not thick or anything.’

‘I’m genderfluid, Liam,’ said Harry.

The boy was left silent and the same puzzled look he had before. ‘Sorry?’

‘See? I told you,’ said Louis. ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older, Liam.’

Liam protested, but Louis just ignored him, standing up. ‘Thanks again for helping me find him.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said, smiling. Louis could not helping looking at his teeth, so white and clean. He told himself to ask Harry what kind of toothpaste he used. ‘I have to go now. My flatmate’s had kind of an emergency and needs my help.’

‘Oh. I hope it’s nothing serious.’

‘Don’t worry,’ he laughed. ‘No one’s dead. I hope.’

Louis accompanied him to the door and outside of the flat, leaving Liam behind, muttering ‘Genderfluid... Genderfluid... Genderfluid?’ like saying it over and over again would make him understand its meaning. ‘Again, I’m sorry for what happened this morning,’ he said as Harry pressed the lift’s button. ‘I really am.’

‘Stop it,’ he answered. ‘I told you, I forgive you. Just promise you’ll come visit me some day.’ He winked an eye at him. ‘And, I want to meet that Niall. Sounds like a great guy.’

‘Yeah,’ said Louis. ‘We can hang out and stuff as soon as they let him out of the hospital.’

‘Great.’ He smiled again.

The doors opened and before he got in the lift, Harry kissed Louis quickly on the cheek.

‘See ya!’ he said cheerfully, the doors closing and Louis frozen in the corridor rubbing with his fingers the place Harry had kissed.

 

Three days after, Liam seemed to feel better. He spent the first day in his room, watching _My Little Pony_ , _Adventure Time_ and other happy shows to cheer himself up. On the second day, they went to visit Niall, drove him to his house from the hospital, and made sure he had everything he needed before heading back home. And on the third day, Liam seemed as cheerful as before. Only he would not tell Louis about his ordeal yet.

Louis was seriously worry about him; he knew it was not good to just keep things in. Liam needed help and he was more than ready to help his best friend.

But where to start? Harry had said not to force him, that he would tell him when he was ready. But what if Liam needed a push? Well, not like a big push, like the one you throw people off of a cliff with. More like a itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny push, like a pat on the back that gets someone slightly out of balance, not enough to fall, but enough to come back to earth.

So Louis did the only thing he could think of: he took his phone and called Harry.

‘Hello, handsome,’ he said. ‘I was afraid I’ll never see you again.’

‘Hi, Harry,’ said Louis, a bit shy all of a sudden. He still remembered the kiss in the cheek. Mind, girls had kissed him in the cheek before, but never a boy, so he was not sure what to make of it just yet. ‘Are you busy today?’

‘Define busy.’

‘Like, “I can’t possibly get out now, I have a giraffe in the oven and a pig oozing on the ceiling” busy.’

Harry giggled. ‘Then no, I’m not busy. But I was planning on going out with my flatmate tonight. You wanna come?’

‘Well...’ Did he? ‘Yeah. Why not?’

‘Good. Why don’t you come at about seven? I mean, if you don’t mind waiting; my flatmate takes about an hour to get ready, so we can just sit and have a drink while we wait,’ he said.

‘Yeah. Yeah, sounds good,’ Louis said. ‘Seven it is, then.’

‘Great! See you!’

 

He was not expecting it. Yes, he already knew about his gender thing, of course, but it still took him by surprise.

‘I hope your silence means I’m looking good,’ said Harry with a smile, because Louis had been staring at him for longer enough to make it awkward.

Harry had opened the door wearing really tight jeans, so tight that his package, by mere logic, should had been accentuated. Only it was **not** there. It was not that he had a small package—there was nothing at all there. Just like a girl.

He was also wearing a red V-neck shirt and, against his chest, a tag pendant with the word “She” written on it.

Oooh. Clever.

‘You like it?’ said Harry.

‘Sorry?’

‘My pendant. I saw it yesterday on the internet and just had to buy it. Cool, innit? That way it’s easier for people to know how I’m feeling at the moment.’

‘I see,’ said Louis. It was actually a very clever thing. ‘So you’re a she now, right?’

Harry smiled at him. Louis noticed she was wearing a subtle lipstick. ‘That’s right. Come in,’ she said, taking his hand and pulling him in.

Louis sat on the couch with Harry. On the coffee table there were two more pendants, identical to the one Harry was wearing, only with the words “He” and “They”.

‘You have three then.’

‘Well, actually they’re four, but I’m not using the “Xe” one. I don’t like it.’

‘What’s a “Xe”?’ Louis asked.

‘Just a made up pronoun for agender people, but personally, I prefer “They” when I’m not feeling like a boy or a girl, or when I’m feeling like both,’ she said, taking an eyeliner and a hand mirror. ‘You can have it if you want. I don’t mind. Can you hold this for me?’ she said, giving him the mirror.

‘Yeah,’ he said, taking it and holding it in front of her.

‘It’s easier when you can use both hands, you know?’

‘I guess? I’ve never wore make-up or anything.’

‘Really? I reckon you’d look good with guy-liner,’ she said. ‘I love it, even when I’m a boy.’

Louis could not imagine himself wearing make-up—but if she said so...

‘Done,’ Harry announced when she finished. ‘How do I look?’

Louis smiled. ‘You look great.’ Then it occurred to him. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Do you want me to call you something else when you’re feeling like a girl? Like, Harriet or something?’

Harry laughed. ‘It’s nice of you to ask, but don’t worry. Harry is okay.’

‘Harry then. Miss Harry.’

‘Don’t push it,’ she said, still smiling.

‘Harry!’ a voice said from one of the rooms. ‘Come here, bitch!’ It was a deep voice, so Louis guessed it was a man—though now that he had seen what he had seen in the last three days, he told himself not to jump to conclusions so quick.

‘Oh, you haven’t met Zayn yet,’ said Harry, standing up and taking Louis’ hand. ‘Coming, love.’ She took him to the room and opened the door. ‘Zayn, look, Louis is here.’

Again, he was not expecting what he saw, and yet he was telling himself to get use to it. Who was him to judge anyone?

In the room, in front of a mirror, was a man with no shirt on, with lots of tattoos, really weird make-up and half a wig. So this was Zayn. And he looked furious when Louis and Harry entered the room.

‘Harry!’ he said. ‘How many times do I have to tell you?! I don’t like people looking at me when I’m half in drag!’

‘But you called me, and I want you to meet Louis,’ she said, innocently. ‘Louis, this is Zayn, my flatmate. Zayn, this is Louis.’

Louis was going to shake his hand, but Zayn just gave him an unamused look. 'So?'

Wow. How friendly.

‘C’mon, Zayn, there’s no need to be rude,’ said Harry.

‘Same way there’s no need to show a complete stranger how I do my make-up,’ he answered. ‘Now, if you excuse us, Lewis.’ Then he pulled Harry in and closed the door, leaving “Lewis” alone in the corridor before he could even say ‘It’s Louis, not Lewis. It’s French.’

Harry slightly opened the door. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back in a minute. You can watch telly if you want.’ Then she closed the door again and Louis could hear them whispering, but all he could understand was Zayn angrily saying something about someone called Bernadette. Or so he thought he heard.

 

By the time Harry came out of her flatmate’s room, Louis had watched about half an episode of _Top Gear_ and was laughing at one of Richard Hammond’s jokes—‘This car is unbelievably agile. It changes directions like a kitten chasing a spider!’

‘Sorry,’ Harry apologised. ‘It took longer that I thought.’

‘It’s everything all right?’ asked Louis, turning down the volume of the TV.

‘Well, yes and no.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘See, Zayn works at the club we’re going now, and he and another two queens have this show they’ve been preparing for ages. And this morning one of them, Ed, had a little accident.’

‘Oh my God, is he OK?’ asked Louis.

‘Yes, yes, don’t worry,’ she said. ‘He’s just broken a leg and won’t be able to walk for several weeks, let alone dance. That’s why Zayn is being really annoying today; if they don’t find someone to replace Ed, there’ll be no show and all their work will go to waste.’

‘Can’t they do it with only two?’

‘No, it has to be three. They’re reenacting _Pricilla, Queen of the Desert_ and Ed was going to play Bernadette.’

Priscilla Queen of the What?

‘So, no Ed, no show.’

‘Yes, that’s a way of saying it. I’m trying to tell him that’s gonna be fine, that they’ll find another Bernadette, but he’s inconsolable. He just won’t listen.’

‘And Bernadette is...’ said Louis. He really had no idea.

‘Please, tell me I just didn’t hear that,’ interrupted Zayn, coming out of his room. He was in full drag now and looked nothing like the tattooed guy he had seen before. Now, he looked more like a primary school teacher. And his make-up was not looking so weird now. ‘Oh, and he’s watching _Top Gear_. Can’t get any straighter than that.’

‘Zayn,’ Harry called him.

‘Seriously, girl, you always go for the straight ones.’

‘Zaaayn.’

‘Next time, go for someone that likes dick.’

‘Zayn!’

‘What?!’

‘You’re out of character,’ she said. ‘Relax. Breath. Remember; Veronica is poised, polished, a classy lady, not a chav.’

‘Did you just call me chav?’

Louis did not know what to do. Or if he had to do anything at all. And who was Veronica? Zayn was about to burst again, but then stopped, closed his eyes, took a deep, deep breath, and said, ‘Okay. Okay, I’m fine. I’m Veronica, I’m a lady, I’m classy, and I’m the fishiest queen ever to walk the streets of London.’

What. The Fuck. Was going on.

‘Right,’ said Zayn/Veronica. ‘First of all, hello, Lewis, welcome to our house, and sorry for being rude.’

What.

‘Second, Harry, promise me you’ll make sure Lewis will watch the greatest movie ever made.’

‘ _L_ _ove Actually_?’

‘ _Priscilla_!’

Harry laughed again. By the looks of it, it seemed like Zayn had a rather bad temper and Harry loved to annoy him. ‘I will, I will. Well, if you want to, Louis. What do you say?’ she asked.

Oh, Lord, what was he getting himself into?


	6. Find Me a Bernadette

Their night out was not really that bad. Louis was actually having so much fun he almost forgot why he called Harry in the first place. Sadly, all she told him was to wait, that Liam would need time to open himself to Louis— **Not** in a sexual way, you perverts!

‘Just wait,’ she had told him. ‘Believe me, I’ve been there. Not in Liam’s place,’ Harry said when Louis’ eyes widen. ‘I mean, I’ve been in your place; a friend had a really terrible experience once and she wouldn’t tell me what had happened for like two weeks.’

‘Is she all right now?’ Louis had asked.

‘Yes, she’s a strong girl after all. The guy is in jail now, fortunately.’

‘That bastard,’ spat Louis. ‘I hope Liam feels better soon so we can help him.’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘He looks like a nice guy. He doesn’t deserve to live in fear— Oh,’ she interrupted herself, ‘Veronica and Nicky are about to come out.’

On the way there, Harry had told Louis that Miss Veronica Malik was Zayn’s drag name. When they arrived, he was introduced to the other queen with whom Zayn was preparing that _Priscilla_ rendition. Her boy name, as they called it, was Nick, but in drag she was just known as Nicky Sagai. It took Louis some minutes to get the joke.

‘Bitch!’ Nicky had greeted Veronica cheerfully at the front door of the club as soon as she had seen them. Apparently, all queens used bitch as a term of endearment. Or maybe it was just Veronica and Nicky, Louis was not sure; they were the first drag queens he met, really. ‘What took you so long? Were you trying to fix your hairline? Cause by the looks of it, you failed.’ She laughed.

That whole insulting each other seemed like a normal thing among them, because Veronica did not look angry at her. ‘At least my highlights don’t make me look like a Dorito, hunty,’ she had said.

‘What does _hunty_ mean?’ Louis asked Harry later.

‘You’ll have to ask Veronica,’ she said. ‘Sometimes, I’m lost too when they talk. But she told me it’s something like a mix of honey and cunt, but it’s not an insult? I’m not sure, really.’

When Harry introduced Louis to Nicky, she squealed. ‘Oh my goodness, he is adorable!’ she said while hugging him. ‘And so tiny, like a puppy.’

‘I’m not that short!’ Louis wanted to say, but Nicky was nearly crushing him to death in her breast plate.

‘Careful, Nicky,’ said Harry, saving Louis from Nicky’s deathly attentions. ‘You’ll kill him.’

‘Oops! Sorry,’ she said, leaving Louis down. ‘Okay, you two have fun. We’ll be on the stage soon if Miss Thing’s fat arse doesn’t slow her down.’

Veronica just flipped the bird at her with a smile. ‘See you in a bit, Harry.’

After that, Harry and Louis spent the next hour dancing, talking, laughing, and just plain having fun, until the music stopped and the emcee—a small drag king with a big top hat—appeared on stage.

'Are you having fun, ladies and ladyboys?' he asked. The club filled with 'yes!' and 'wooo!' and even Louis shouted with them. 'Well, I'm glad cause guess what? Fun is over, cause it's time to go back to school, motherfuckers!'

School? What school? Louis expected people to boo him—no one liked school, come on—but instead cheered, even Harry.

'Get your notebooks, pens, fivers and tenners ready for Miss Malik's School for Young and Gifted Ladies and Ladyboys!' he announced.

The emcee stepped out of the stage and the lights went on to reveal Veronica sitting on a teacher's desk with a blackboard behind her. Nicky was also there, wearing a schoolgirl uniform and ponytails.

'Hello, everyone,' said Veronica, not even trying to hide her masculine voice. The audience laughed at this. 'I'm Miss Malik and I will be teaching all of you a very important lesson today.'

'Are you gonna teach us how to hide a five o'clock shadow?' interrupted Nicky. 'Cause yours is showing, Miss!'

The audience laughed again, but Veronica frowned. 'Miss Sagai, please, behave. This is a school for ladies; throwing shade is completely forbidden.'

'But Miiiiss!' Nicky protested.

'No buts.'

'Well, a world without butts is a world I don't want to live in.'

‘Nicky!’ shouted Veronica, horrified, while the people laughed again. ‘I swear, I still don’t know how someone like you got in. This is a school for gifted ladies, and I don’t see what makes you gifted.’

‘I could show you, teacher, but I’ll have to untuck first.’

The whole show was joke after joke, Nicky making fun of the teacher and Veronica slowly losing her temper. Everyone was laughing, Louis included. He had never seen a drag show before, but if they were all as funny as this one, he would be going to more shows in the future. He did not even mind when Nicky asked for a volunteer from the audience and, ignoring the ‘me, me!’, she took Louis by the hand, sat him in a chair on the stage and proceeded to do a lap dance. It was awkward, but funny, and luckily for Louis, Veronica stopped her before she could take her bra off and send Louis back with Harry, who laughed at Louis’ red face. He could not wait to tell Liam what he had missed.

 

After the show, Harry, Veronica, Nicky and Louis celebrated their success with a couple of drinks. If drag queens were funny when sober, they were even funnier when drunk; the two queen would suddenly start to sing songs about being boss ass bitches or licking pussies and cracks—Louis did not know the songs nor he knew whether he wanted to know them—and tell random boys on the streets to sit on their faces.

Everything was fun and giggles until it was time to go back home. Louis did not want to leave, really, but he felt more and more tired and he did not want to sleep in the middle of the street. Nicky took a taxi while the other three decided to walk home, since Harry and Zayn’s flat was not that far away. Harry had insisted Louis spent the night with them because she did not want him to go home alone—he had to take a couple of buses and he was so drunk Harry feared he could get lost.

On their way home, the streets were almost deserted—and a bit creepy too—except for one. The came across some really tall guys that looked like they could break Louis’ bones with their pinky. Louis could tell Harry and Veronica were really tense as soon as they saw those three brick shithouses.

‘Oi, Jason,’ said one of them, the one with curly blond hair, ‘look at those trannies.’ He laughed, and so did the other two. Harry tried to walk past, looking at her feet all the time, while Veronica’s teeth clenched and her hand was closed in a fist, her knuckles getting white.

‘Hey, weirdos,’ said the tallest one, ‘is that your bodyguard? He looks like a Hobbit!’

Were they talking about Louis now? God, if the chances of him being killed were not so high, he would have say something; he could unleash the sass, he was born with that gift. But everybody knows the Power of the Sass has nothing on 48 stones of muscle.

Veronica, on the other hand, seemed more brave than him.

‘Why don’t you gym bunnies go back to California and suck Schwarzenegger’s cock?’ she said.

The three guys stopped laughing and Louis could feel how his own heart had stopped. By the look on her face, Harry’s had done the same.

‘What did you say?’ said the one with a shaved head.

‘You’re deaf too or what?’ said Veronica, who by the looks of it was getting into Zayn Mode. ‘Let’s try and punch you in the face, see if it fixes your hearing, asshole.’

The three guys started to walk towards them. ‘Shite, shite, shite,’ thought Louis, looking everywhere for a policeman, the Powerpuff Girls, someone to help them! Because they were so going to die.

And they did not die, because as it turns out, you **can** fight in heels. Or at least punch a 6’3’’ 16 stones body builder by surprise with your hand full of rings and make him stumble and bleed.

‘Fuck!’ said the guy. ‘I’m bleeding!’

‘Are you okay, Aiden?’ asked another, the one they had called Jason before.

‘I think he’s broken my nose!’

‘Come on, Haydn! Let’s take him to the hospital!’

‘This is not over, tranny!’ shouted Haydn as he and Jason picked Aiden up and run away from them.

Impressive. That was all Louis could think about. Impressive.

Veronica had a victorious smile on her face. ‘Bullies. Show them their place and they’ll leave you alone. You okay, Harry?’

‘Yes. Thank you,’ she said, hugging her. ‘You, Louis?’

‘I thought we were going to die...’

Veronica laughed. ‘Not while I’m here, love. Let me tell you, I’ve been protecting Harry since we met in primary school and no one has been able to hurt him without getting to know the twins,’ she said, kissing her fists.

So they had been friends for almost as long as he had known Liam—they had met in their first year of school, and though back then Liam was not a fan of _My Little Pony_ , he was really obsessed with Pokémon when it came out, but in his defence, so was Louis. And two thirds of the children in their school.

‘So, they’ve bullied you before?’ Louis asked Harry.

‘That’s like asking if the sky is blue,’ said Veronica. ‘Look at us. You think everyone is so open minded?’

‘Well, not really...’

‘Don’t be so hard on him,’ said Harry, starting to walk again.

‘Sorry, Hazza. You know these things infuriate me,’ she said. ‘Like that time they broke into your dorm in uni and stole your underwear?’

‘They did what?’ asked Louis.

‘Yeah, it was my first year of uni and the first time I was living on my own, so I could buy whatever clothes I wanted, and I had these really cute blue knickers, and, well, someone must have seen them and told other people and then broke into my room and stole them. I then found them hanging from the top of the front door, and then they wrote “pervert” on my door. Everyone thought I had stolen them from some girl and like, sniff them or something.’

Louis could not believe it. Some people can be so cruel. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ he said. Veronica turned to him as soon as he said this, and looked at him with her eyes wide open. Then, her face lit up, as if she had seen some kind of deity. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ asked Louis.

Veronica just turned to Harry, smiling. ‘Harry, I may have found my Bernadette.’


	7. Like Brothers from Another Mother

‘I saw Harry playing with a doll!’ shouted the kid.

‘It’s not true!’ Harry protested, though it was the truth.

Harry was five years old and had just started Year 1. Everything was so new and different, and sometimes not in a good way. Before, he had played with whatever he wanted; cars, Barbie, Action Man, whatever he felt like playing. His parents had never cared about it and in nursery school everyone was too busy playing with their toys to even care about him playing with “girls toys”. But primary school was different.

He had been playing with his favourite dolly in a corner all by himself, out of everyone’s eyes, or so he thought, when little Jimmy took the toy from him and run towards Miss Crawford, a teacher with the nose of a hawk and the scariest eyes a five-year-old had ever seen. ‘He was playing with a doll,’ said Jimmy with his innocent voice. ‘Daddy says boys can’t play with dolls.’

‘We don’t steal other children’s toys, James,’ the teacher scolded him. ‘Go sit in the corner and think what you’ve done.’

‘But Miss, Daddy says...’

‘Corner!’

Harry smiled as he saw Jimmy going slowly to the corner. ‘Can I have my dolly back, please?’ he asked the teacher, being polite like his mother had taught him to be with all the teachers.

Miss Crawford looked at Harry, then to the doll, and then to Harry again. ‘Where did you get this doll?’

‘Father Christmas gave it to me,’ he said.

‘Harold, where did you get this doll from?’ she insisted.

Harry was getting nervous. ‘My name is Harry.’

‘Did you took it from one of the girls?’ she asked, frowning.

‘No!’ he said, his eyes filling with tears. Miss Crawford was so scary. ‘It’s mine! It’s my Christmas present.’

‘Father Christmas doesn’t like liars,’ she said, taking Harry by the hand and pulling him to the headmistress’ office. ‘We’ll call your parents and see what they think about you being a liar and a thief.’

 

Harry was sitting outside of Mrs. Rangarajan’s office while his mother was inside, arguing with the headmistress, telling her that yes, it was Harry’s doll and no, he did not steal it from anyone.

‘So, why are you here?’ asked a boy sat next to him. His skin was darker than Harry’s and he had bruises in his arms and face.

‘I was just playing with my dolly and then Miss Crawford said I stole it.’

‘Did you?’

‘No! It’s mine, I swear!’ said Harry. Had he no been crying for the last thirty minutes, he would do it again, but his eyes were red and ached.

‘Don’t worry,’ said the boy, patting his back. ‘Mrs. Ran is very nice. She never punishes me.’

‘Really?’ asked Harry.

‘Yes! She just says it’s the other kid’s fault.’

‘Did they say you stole a toy too?’

‘No, I just had a fight with another boy.’

‘Why? Fighting is naughty,’ Harry said, innocently.

‘He was pulling a girl’s hair and that’s wrong. Oh, my name’s Zayn.’

‘Hi, Zayn. I’m Harry.’

‘Would you like to come and play at my house?’ he asked. ‘Mummy says I need to make friends, and I like you.’

‘Will you hit me?’

‘Will you steal my cookies?’

‘No.’

‘Then I won’t hit you.’ Zayn smiled.

Harry smiled too, feeling better. ‘Then I will go.’

 

From that day, Harry and Zayn became the best of friends. They would meet almost every weekend at any of their houses, play hide and seek, watch the Power Rangers—Zayn would always be the red ranger while Harry was the blue one—and Harry kept his promise and never ever took Zayn’s cookies. And of course, Zayn kept his word too and never ever hit him.

Sometimes, when they were home alone, they’ll dress up in their parents’ clothes, and sometimes Zayn would put Harry’s sister’s clothes on. No one ever caught them, or if they did, they paid no mind.

School, however, was a whole different matter; children were cruel to the point where Harry stopped bringing his dolls to school, and though he could play with Zayn and his cars, some days he just did not feel like it.

Fortunately, his new friend always protected him against anyone who dared bully Harry. They grew up together like brothers from different parents. They had different cultures, different religions, different colour, but they could not have been any closer had they been identical. They were so like brothers that, when they tried to date during Sixth Form, they lasted only a week due to the awkwardness of the situation. They decided they were better as friends than as boyfriends.

It was also around this age that Harry learnt about his gender identity and that he was not the only one who felt like he did. And as always, Zayn supported and defended him, so when he had the _knickers accident_ at uni, Zayn offered him to live together, away from those toxic kids.

Later Harry dropped out of university. He worked at different places to pay the rent while Zayn started to feel attracted to the world of drag. He asked Barbara Gaynolds, an old but talented queen who worked at the gay club Zayn and Harry frequented almost every weekend, to be his drag mother. Barbara taught him and her other drag daughters, Nick and Ed, all she knew. That was how the trio was born, adopting the names Veronica Malik, Nicky Sagai and Lady Fiyah Crutch. Sadly, Barbara passed away a year later, leaving the three sisters orphans, but they never stopped their performances, which they dedicated to their drag mother.

 

When it came to romantic relationships, Harry was not really the luckiest: apart from the week he and Zayn dated and the eight-months-long on-and-off sexual affair with Nick, he had not had a single date and it came to the point where he had just lost interest in boys.

That was until certain very cute—and very drunk—boy with the best bum he had ever seen came talk to him on the dance floor not so many nights ago.


	8. She Likes You, You Idiot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, we have a new title, Come Lie With Me (lie as in lie down, not as in not telling the truth, just realised the possible double meaning).
> 
> Also, as I said on my tumblr, I'm getting rid of the Mondays and Thursdays update. From now on, I'll upload the chapters when I consider they're ready. The reason is that I have less time now to write, what with my thesis about Gothic literature and stuff. I'll try not to spend more than a week between chapters, but sometimes it's going to take a while, so bear with me, please. Also, I'd rather have a day or two to revise and edit them.

Louis dreamt he was in the middle of a forest. Not a scary and dark forest, but a nice, beautiful forest. The sun shone through the leaves of the trees, creating patterns on the floor. And he felt happy. He did not know exactly why, but it was the happiest he had been in a long time.

He walked through this forest until he found a glade. There, lying on the grass, was Harry. When he saw Louis, he smiled. ‘Come lie with me, Lou,’ he said, and Louis lay with him, really close. ‘Look at the clouds,’ he said, pointing at the sky. ‘That one looks like you.’

Louis laughed. ‘That looks nothing like me.’

‘It does to me.’ He put his arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him closer. ‘Is it—’ he hesitated. ‘Is it okay if I kiss you?’

Louis looked him in the eye with a half smile. ‘You know you don’t need to ask,’ he said, stroking Harry’s cheek.

Then, as he got in top of Harry and leaned to kiss him, Louis woke up in Harry and Zayn’s sofa.

 

‘Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,’ said Harry when Louis opened the door of the kitchen. Louis noticed she was still wearing her “she” necklace. Or wearing it again. He did not know whether she had taken it off or not before going to sleep. She and Zayn were already having breakfast and it was the first time Louis saw the latter completely out of drag. And he looked nothing like Veronica: He had lots of tattoos everywhere, and he was fit. The cheekbones where real, that was for sure.

‘Morning,’ Louis mumbled.

‘Hi, yes, have you thought about last night?’ asked Zayn, not wasting a second.

Last night was still a little blur—Louis was not really a morning person. ‘What thing?’

‘About being my Bernadette.’

Oh. That.

‘I don’t know, Zayn...’

‘C’mooon, Louis,’ Zayn basically begged. ‘You’ll make a great Bernadette and I’m in serious need of one. You have the attitude and the sass, pleeeaaaseee.’

Louis groaned as he sat down and took a toast. ‘But I’m not a drag queen.’

‘I’ll teach you! I always wanted a drag daughter.’

‘A what?’ asked Louis. Harry was stuffing her mouth with a croissant so she would not burst laughing.

‘Just say yes. Do I have to get on my knees?’

‘But I don’t want to be a drag queen! No offence, I loved your show last night, but I’m not interested in becoming one...’

‘Just for a night. Just for this show. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it ever again. I know we barely know each other, so you can see how desperate I am. Come on, mate, please, please.’

Louis bit his lip, not wanting to say yes but not wanting to let Zayn down either. ‘But—’ He sighed. ‘Okay.’

Zayn opened his eyes very wide, like a deer surprised by the lights of a truck in a road at midnight. ‘Oh my God, for real?’ Harry was surprised too.

‘Yes, yes, but just one night,’ said Louis before he was almost assaulted by Zayn’s hug.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!’ he said, kissing his cheeks four times. ‘I’ll have to buy new make-up; mine’s too dark for you. What size d’you wear? Oh, oh, oh, forget it, I’ll do it myself. This is like Christmas and Ramadan together! Again!’ Zayn got up and ran to his room. Louis and Harry, who was finally laughing, could hear him rummaging his bedroom.

‘I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time,’ said Harry. ‘Thank you.’

‘I know I will regret it later...’

Harry smiled and took a toast, spreading some butter on it. ‘So, what’s going to be your drag name?’ she joked.

‘Do I really need one?’ asked Louis.

‘Not really, but something tells me if you don’t pick one, Zayn will for you. He’s not really good with them. I mean,’ she laughed, ‘just look at his. What kind of a name is Veronica Malik? Sounds weird put together. He’ll probably call you Emily Malik.’

‘Wouldn’t it be Emily Tomlinson though?’

‘Doesn’t have to be your actual surname, and since technically you’re going to be his drag daughter, well.’

Louis sighed. ‘Better start thinking about one then. What was that character he wants me to play called again?’

‘Bernadette,’ she said. She finished her breakfast and stood up, cleaning her part of the table. ‘Don’t think he’ll let you name yourself that though.’

‘Fuck. Can’t I just still be Louis? It’s only for a night.’ He helped Harry clean up the table and wash the cups and plates.

‘I’m not sure, but if you insist, maybe he’ll let you,’ Harry said as she passed Louis a cup to dry. From Zayn’s room they could hear him singing _Karma Chameleon_. ‘Wow, you’ve **really** made him happy.’

Louis laughed. ‘He better be. Can I ask you a question about Zayn?’

‘Only if I can answer it.’

‘Don’t answer if it’s too personal, but I need to know. Does Zayn want to be a— You know.’

‘A what?’

‘A real woman,’ Louis whispered.

A plate almost slipped from Harry’s hands. ‘Better don’t ask him that question in person.’

‘No, he doesn’t want to be a woman,’ Zayn’s voice said behind them, making Harry actually drop the plate, which fortunately did not break. Neither of them had noticed Zayn getting into the kitchen with a measuring tape. He was very serious. ‘Louis, I need to measure you, so if you don’t mind, Harry, I’m kidnapping him for a while.’

Harry was visually uneasy. ‘Yeah, sure. I can finish by myself.’

As Zayn took Louis by the arm, Harry gave him the same look someone would give to a prisoner sentenced to death. ‘Good luck’, she muttered.

 

‘Stay still,’ said Zayn.

Louis was standing in the middle of Zayn’s bedroom as he took the tape and measured him. He started with the neck, leaving two fingers between the tape and Louis’ skin. He then wrote down something in a notebook.

‘Usually,’ he said curtly, ‘I have Harry take notes, but she’s too busy today. Hope you don’t have much to do today, ‘cause we may take some time.’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Louis, a bit intimidated by Zayn’s tone.

‘Good.’

Zayn kept measuring in silence; his shoulders, chest, stomach, and Louis said nothing the whole time. He did not even dare.

‘Okay,’ said Zayn, breaking the silence, ‘this part may be a bit uncomfortable, so bear with me.’ He then put the tape in Louis inner leg, with his hand dangerously near his crotch. Louis flinched slightly. ‘Stay still.’

‘I try. Hey, I’m sorry for that... thing before in the kitchen,’ he apologised.

Zayn frowned. ‘I’m just tired of people not getting what I do.’ He stood up and pointed at himself and the clothes he was wearing—baggy jeans and a white vest that let his tattoo show. ‘Look at me. Do I look like I want to be a girl?’

Louis took his time. ‘I don’t know—’

‘Do you think I’d dress like this if I wanted to be Veronica?’ He went to his wardrobe and took a very shiny emerald sequined dress. ‘If I wanted to be Veronica, I’d wear this. And this.’ He took another one, a long dark blue party dress, and then a little black dress. ‘And this. Veronica is a character. She’s not real. She’s an illusion. She’s not what I want to be. I am Zayn. I’m a dude. I’ve got a dick. And I’m planning to stay that way, thank you very much.’

Louis remained silent again. Why did everything have to be so violent?

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just asking,’ said Louis.

‘Well, there’s just so many questions one can stand before exploding, mate. I know you are curious about things and at least you’re trying to understand, but tone it down. Don’t expect to get all the answers on the first week.’ Zayn started measuring him again. ‘So be careful. Especially with Harry. You don’t want to pester her, okay?’

‘Why Harry especially?’ asked Louis.

Zayn rolled his eyes. ‘Really? Do you need me to tell you?’

Louis did not understand. What did he mean?

‘Oh, my God,’ said Zayn after Louis said nothing. ‘You really can’t see it.’

‘See what?’

Zayn stood up again, wrote one last thing in his notebook, and said, ‘She likes you, you idiot.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember you can leave your thoughts in the comment section below and if you think something can be improved, let me know and we'll see what can be done.


	9. I Always Speak the Truth

Apparently, Liam had not closed the curtains properly, because when the sun came up, it landed directly on Niall’s eyes, waking him up at only five in the **fucking** morning.

‘Liam,’ he called, squinting at the light. ‘Liaaam!’

He could hear the boy falling from the sofa where he had slept, stumbling to his feet, and then running to Niall’s bedroom. He opened the door, breathless. ‘What happened? Are you okay? Are you in pain?’

Niall pointed at the window. ‘The sun. It hurts. I’m melting.’

Liam was still trying to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his ears. ‘Fuck, Niall, you scared me. I thought it was something serious,’ he complained, walking towards the window and closing the curtain so that the annoying ray of light was finally out of Niall’s face. ‘Why is the sun up so early? It’s like midnight.’

‘It’s called summer, Liam: the days are longer and the sun is a son of a bitch.’

‘You should consider buying some blinds.’

Niall snorted. ‘We don’t have blinds in Ireland. We live the simple life.’

It was not true, obviously, but Niall loved to mess up with innocent, naive Liam. He raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

‘Yup, it’s just curtains for us. Oh, and you know how a lot of Irishmen have freckles? Wanna know why?’

‘Why?’

Niall tried to put the most serious face he could. ‘They sunbathe with a strainer.’

‘What? Seriously?’

‘Yes, it’s an ancient tradition. Saint Patrick himself started it.’

Just the fact that Liam was even considering the veracity of these claims amused Niall. ‘Ireland sounds like a very weird place...’

 

It was not like Niall was invalid or anything. He could take care of himself, really. He may just need some help every now and then with things like lifting heavy stuff—which he did not do anyways. So why would he need Liam to stay overnight every other day? Simples: it was time to teach Liam a couple of things.

His inability to acknowledge Niall’s gender, whether intentional or not, was getting on his nerves, so he thought maybe having him around would get the boy used to it. That was why Niall was having breakfast with no shirt on and only his binder.

‘Do you always have to eat like that?’ asked Liam.

‘It’s July and it’s hot, Liam. I’m boiling here!’ Niall whined, pouting. It was actually not that hot, but he liked to show off his new chest, even if it was still covered by the binder.

Liam just shrugged. ‘Whatever. By the way, do you know where Louis is? I called home this morning but he didn’t answer.’

‘He’ll call,’ said Niall. ‘He always does, so don’t worry. Maybe he’s still sleeping.’

‘Who’s still sleeping at ten in the morning?’

‘Who under the age of forty is not sleeping at ten in the morning except for you?’

‘I’m just worried, okay?’ he said. ‘Maybe he didn’t sleep at home tonight.’

‘And that’s bad because…?’

‘Well, last time he slept somewhere else he befriended a transvestite. Ouch!’ he protested when Niall hit him in the head with the spoon. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘That’s for calling him a transvestite. Louis told you, didn’t he?’

‘Yes,’ said Liam, rubbing his head where he had been hit, ‘but I can’t never remember the word he used.’

‘Then you should try harder.’

Liam opened his mouth as if to add something, but he shut it again and both say nothing for a while. Niall kept eating and Liam seemed to ponder something, looking at an empty wall. Maybe he had noticed his error, Niall thought. Maybe he noticed Niall was right. Maybe he would start paying attention to people and their feelings. Just maybe. Niall hoped he was right.

‘Niall,’ said Liam after Niall had finished his breakfast and opened the fridge, ‘am I a bad person?’

‘No, not bad,’ Niall answered, ‘you just need to start thinking outside of your personal box. You know, open your eyes, pay attention to what you say, buy me some milk.’

‘Milk?’

‘Yeah, I’ve ran out of milk,’ he said with his head in the fridge.

‘Can’t you buy it yourself?’

‘But Liaaam, I can’t lift heavy things. You heard the doctor.’

‘Milk ain’t heavy.’

‘A carton ain’t heavy, but I don’t need one carton, I need more! God, Liam, you’re so stupid.’

Furious, Liam hit the table with his fists and stood up. ‘If I’m so stupid, then I think you better find someone else to take care of you, cause I’m out!’ he said as he walked to the door, not realising he was still dressed in his pyjama trousers and a baggy _Friendship Is Magic_ T-shirt.

‘For the love of every saint, Liam!’ shouted Niall. ‘It was a joke! I was quoting _Mean Girls_. Don’t tell me you didn’t get it.’

Liam stopped right in front of the door. ‘It was?’

Niall gasped, way too dramatically. ‘Please, Liam, for our friendship’s sake, don’t tell me you’ve never watched _Mean Girls_.’

‘Well, no,’ he said, to which Niall answered by letting his mouth wide open. ‘I mean, isn’t it a movie for girls or something?’

Liam heard the door of the fridge closing and Niall rushed towards him. He put his hands on Liam’s shoulders with a very stern face and said, ‘ _Mean Girls_ is not a chick flick. Mean Girls is for everyone. Everyone loves Mean girls, Liam. Everyone.’

‘You’re scaring me . . .’

‘Don’t worry, child, don’t worry; as soon as Louis arrives, we’ll fix this. You didn’t have plans for today, right?’

‘Well, yes, but…’

‘Good!’ Niall interrupted him. ‘You’ll see your pony friends another day; they’ll understand, I’m sure. Fortunately for you, I still have my copy of _Mean Girls_. The director’s cut. Four hours of the best masterpiece of the seventh art.’

‘Four hours?!’ Liam exclaimed.

‘I know! Exciting, innit?’

They were interrupted by a knocking at the door. ‘I can almost hear you from the street,’ Louis said from the other side. ‘What’s going on in there?’

Niall opened the door and greeted Louis with a hug—a manly hug, of course. ‘Come in, quickly.’

‘What’s happening? Did I miss something?’ asked Louis, worried.

‘We have an emergency: Liam has never watched _Mean Girls_.’

Louis winked. ‘For fuck’s sake, Niall, I thought it was something more serious.’ He had been thinking about what Zayn had told him earlier in the morning all the way to Niall’s flat. It was ridiculous: it was not that big of a deal, right? It was not like Louis fancied Harry or anything. Yes, he made a cute girl, but… ‘Okay, so Liam has never watched _Mean Girls_.’

‘Exactly.’

‘So I guess we’re watching it now, right?’ Niall nodded in response. ‘Then what are we waiting for? I have nothing to do and I fancy a movie,’ he said, sitting in the sofa. Liam just gave up and sat with him. ‘C’mon, Liam, it’s not like we’re going to torture you,’ Louis told him. ‘We’re not the Spanish Inquisition.’ The thing is, Louis could actually use some distraction. Last thing he needed was to get all worried about a boy he did **not** fancy. Because he did not fancy Harry. **At all**. Not in a million years. _Have I mentioned I’m heterosexual today?_

 

Zayn was taking some notes in his notebook sitting in the living room. ‘I think, with his skin tone, blue would look great, don’t you think?’ he asked Harry, who was watching the television.

‘I guess,’ she said.

‘You _guess_? What’s on your head, Hazza?’

‘Nothing important.’

‘I know that face, Harry. I can see you biting your cheeks and you’re changing channels without actually looking at the telly. If there’s something you want to say, just say it.’

Harry remained silent for a couple of seconds, but finally spoke. ‘It’s just that I think you should be nicer to Louis.’

‘Oh, here we go.’

‘I mean it, Zayn. He’s a nice guy.’

‘Oh, is he?’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Harry.

Zayn closed his notebook and let in on the coffee table. ‘How do you know he’s a nice guy? How long have you known him? A week?’

‘Just because you don’t trust people doesn’t mean I can’t.’

‘How many times have you been hurt, Harry?’ asked Zayn, dead serious. ‘Answer honestly.’

‘Louis wouldn’t hurt me.’

Zayn sighed. ‘Open your eyes, Harry. I know you like him, but he’s straight. He’ll never feel anything for you and he’ll never understand you. He can be a friend, yes, but I highly doubt he’ll ever be anything more than that.’ He could feel Harry getting angrier and angrier inside. An angry Harry was not something Zayn liked to see, because he knew she would not talk to him again for some time: when he said that he did not approve of her relationship with Nick in the past, Harry spent a whole month ignoring Zayn’s existence, and he could not stand it. He would rather cut his balls than having his best friend, his sister from another mister not talking to him, but he had to tell the truth. He was like the magic sitar in _Moulin Rouge!_ ’: _I always speak the truth_. ‘I’m not trying to hurt you, Harry, quite the opposite: I don’t want people to hurt you again.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Harry said, sarcastically. ‘What about you stop being so fucking overprotective, Zayn? You’re not my mother.’

‘Try to understand, Harry.’

‘No!’ she said, standing up. ‘This is none of your business! I can date whoever I want!’

‘He’s straight, Harry!’ Zayn shouted back. ‘Stop living in your fantasy world and come back to Earth!’

‘You’re such a hypocrite.’

‘Oh, am I? Surprise me, Harry; how am I being a hypocrite?’

‘You said that I only knew him a week ago, that how can I know if he’s a nice guy. Well, how can you know whether he’s 100% straight? Answer honestly,’ she said, mocking Zayn’s voice. ‘Also, how dare you judge him like that and then use it for your gig?’

‘That’s different,’ said Zayn.

‘How is it different?’

Zayn opened his mouth, but closed it again. Truth be told, Harry had a point there, but his pride was too big to admit it. ‘It’s different.’

Harry shook her head. ‘Fuck you, Malik.’ She turned around, walking towards the door with noisy steps on the carpet.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Zayn, going after her. ‘Harry, we’re talking.’

‘Fuck you,’ she repeated, taking her jacket and slamming the door behind her with such force that a picture of them fell from the wall, breaking the glass.


	10. Inner Civil War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed in other fics that, apparently, some people get triggered just by reading about a character being misgendered, so just in case, trigger warning: there's some in this chapter. I just don't want anyone to feel bad while reading, so better safe than sorry.

Harry regretted taking the jacket with her. She fanned herself with her hand, sweating heavily. What a horrible summer that was. She tried to clear her mind, but the heat was not helping at all.

As Veronica, Zayn was more feminine and looked more like a woman that Harry did during her girliest moods, but that did not mean he understood how it was being her. He have known her since they were so little she could barely remember how life was before they met, but that did not mean he understood how it was being her. No, Zayn did not understand at all how it was being Harry.

And still, a part of her knew he was kind of right: how did she know Louis was not like the others? How did she know Louis would show interest in her regardless of her gender? How did she know shit about Louis? She did not even know his middle name—although she knew the name of all his sisters since the boy liked to talk and would not stop when they met at that club. Maybe that was why she thought he knew him so well: he was like an open book to her that night, so he was not a total stranger to her.

She liked him. She really did. She was not sure whether it was actual love or a crush, but she felt it so strong within her that it was impossible to think it was just an infatuation. Harry did not just fancy Louis: she liked him. And yet, Zayn had a point. Louis was straight and her chances with him were slim, no matter how feminine she looked or acted. And even if he eventually fell in love with her girl side, what would happen when she felt like a boy? Would Louis love boy Harry? And even if Louis loved girl Harry, her body was still the same.

‘Fuck,’ she muttered. ‘Why does life have to be so fucking complicated?’ She shed a single tear.

 

She kept walking through London under the blazing sun, which made the day so hot even the pigeons refused to get out of the fountains, deciding to swim around instead of walking bobbing their heads like they used to. When she had enough of the heat, she entered the first store she found, looking for some shade and, fortunately, air conditioner.

It was a comic store. She was not really enthusiastic about them, but Zayn was, especially superheroes, and so she knew quite a bit about them; enough to know who her favourite superheroine was, although she was not technically a superheroine, nor she was a villain.

She took some X-men comics and opened them, looking for her. She smiled when she saw Mystique on the page. If she could have a power, it would definitely be Mystique’s: she would change her appearance to whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She loved her body, of course; learnt to do so long ago, when she finally accepted that there was not solution for it. Had she been just a transgender woman, it would have been easier: she would just have to save money and have a sex change. But she did not want to be a woman all the time: she wanted to be like Mystique. She wanted to have a woman’s body now, but maybe tomorrow she would want to have a man’s body again. And maybe the day after that she would not want to have neither a man’s nor a woman’s features or maybe both, and so she would make her body look like an equal mix of both. Mystique could do that. Why could Harry not be a mutant like her?

‘Excuse me, sir,’ a juvenile voice said behind Harry. ‘Can I help you?’

It took her some seconds to realise the young shop assistant was talking to her.

‘No, I was just looking,’ Harry said, shy.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot read the comics unless you want to buy them,’ she said, pointing at a poster on the wall that said _This is not a library_.

‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t know…’ Harry was feeling uneasy.

‘Don’t worry, sir.’ Three times. She had called Harry sir three times now. It was not her fault, of course: how was she supposed to know? Plus, Harry had left the house wearing a simple pair of sweatpants, a bandana, and no make-up, so for all the girl knew, Harry was just another ordinary boy in an ordinary comic store. ‘Oh, that’s a good one,’ the girl continued, pointing at the comic in Harry’s hands. ‘I really recommend you to buy it if you haven’t read it yet, sir.’

Four times. ‘Y-yes, I guess…’

‘So do you want to buy it?’

 _Please, don’t call me sir again_ , Harry thought. _Please, don’t_. ‘Yes,’ she said. She did not even care anymore. All she wanted was to get out of there.

The shop assistant smiled, proud of herself. She looked very young, maybe still in secondary school and that was probably the first time she had sold something. ‘Good choice, sir.’ Five times.

 

‘Excuse me, lad.’ Nine times. ‘Is this seat taken?’ asked the old man.

Harry shook her head, not even looking at him, who smiled and sat beside her on the bus. Nine times. Nine times she had been called sir, boy, son, lad, mister. It did not matter how many times she told herself it was not their fault, that they did not know and thus it would be selfish to be angry at them; she did not feel boyish at all that day and it make her feel worse and worse, as if they were saying ‘no, you’re not a girl, you’re a boy and you don’t have permission to be anything else.’ But of course they were not saying that. They did not know her. They did not know what was going on in her head. In fact, she was having her own battle inside. She could hear a voice on the back of her head, saying: _It’s your fault. You’re dressed as a boy. Why do you expect them to treat you like something you don’t look like?_ But there was another voice that said: _You can dress whatever the hell you want. It’s not at all about the clothes or the make-up or the hair or none of that shit. Express your gender however you want. You can wear high heels and mascara and be the manliest guy in the city if you want to._ It was like a civil war was taking place inside of Harry.

She got out when the bus stopped a couple of streets from her apartment. She had been out for about two and a half hours and, although she did not want to see or talk with Zayn, it was the only place where she could feel safe at the moment. However, when she got to the door of her building, she just sat down on the floor, her back against the wall, rested her forehead on her knees and cried silently.

 _It’s too much_ , she thought, _it’s just too fucking much._

She did not know how long she had been crying when a familiar voice asked her: ‘Harry? Are you okay, love?’

She looked up and in front of her was a girl with pink hair and a floral dress, perfect for the summer.

‘Hi, Perrie,’ said Harry. ‘Zayn’s inside, I guess.’

‘No, love, forget about that. What happened to you?’ Perrie asked, genuinely worried.

‘I swear, it’s nothing.’

‘If it were nothing, then you wouldn’t be crying,’ she pointed out. ‘Come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll make you a cuppa and we can talk if you want.’ She offered her hand and Harry, after hesitating for about a second, took it and stood up. Perrie then hugged her very tight. ‘Whatever it is, love, I swear I’ll try to help you.’

Harry did not have many friends, but Perrie was, without doubt, one of the best and she had an innate talent to make her smile, no matter the situation. She would trust her any day and, if she said she could make it better, you could bet she was going to make it better.


	11. CCA

Louis got a text from Zayn about two weeks later, asking him to come around as soon as he was free, when he was with Niall and Liam in their local park. Both Louis and Liam were topless, but Niall was still recovering and thus had to wear his binder for another three weeks. Unlike his friends, he was wearing a tight T-shirt so that people could at least appreciate his chest. He was very proud of it.

‘This is the happiest I’ve ever seen you, Niall,’ Louis had told him a couple of days before.

‘Yeah, dude,’ said Liam. ‘And you’ve only had your chest done. Can’t imagine how you’ll be when you finally get a dick.’ He laughed.

‘I think I’ll explode in a big cloud of glitter,’ Niall had joked, smiling from ear to ear. And it was true: it was the happiest he had ever been. ‘You guys know my dick’ll be bigger than yours, right?’

‘Whatever, man,’ said Liam. And it was not only his new chest what made Niall happy: Liam had not misgendered him once for almost ten days now and although the amount of times he called him dude or man or lad sometimes seemed too much, he appreciated the effort Liam was putting on it. ‘You deserve it. After all, you’ve always been the manliest of us three. You need the biggest willy to match that.’

Louis put his phone in his backpack and said: ‘Sorry, guys, but I need to go.’

‘What? Now?’ asked Liam. ‘But where? Why?’

‘It’s Zayn. Says it’s important,’ said Louis, although the text said nothing about it being important. He just tended to be rather paranoid with these things and somehow thought there might have been an accident or something worse.

‘Oh. I see,’ said Liam, visibly annoyed. While he had been behaving better with Niall, it seemed like the boy was not that happy about Louis having new friends. ‘I guess if it’s so important then you should go. Niall and I will be here, enjoying our not-important day at the park.’

‘Oi, calm down,’ Niall told him. ‘Do you really have to go, Louis? I mean, we just got here…’

‘Zayn says is important.’

‘But you’ll still come to my flat to watch _Alien_ , right?’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Leave him, Ni. Let him be with his _new friends_ ,’ added Liam, putting on his sunglasses again and acting like Louis was not there.

Louis raised an eyebrow. ‘There’s no need to be a twat about it, Liam. I’ll be back soon, I promise.’

‘Did you hear anything, Niall?’

‘Fuck you, Liam.’

 

Almost immediately after Louis knocked on the door, he was welcomed by a girl. Not girl Harry nor Veronica, but a girl he did not know.

‘Yes?’ she asked. ‘D’you want something?’

‘Er, are Zayn or Harry home?’

‘Harry’s not at the moment, but he’ll be back soon, I guess. Zayn’s told me not to let anyone in unless it’s someone called Lewis. Are you Lewis?’

‘It’s actually Louis. It’s French.’

The stranger looked at him up and down. ‘Wait just a second, ‘kay? I’ll be back.’ She then closed the door in his face before coming back. ‘Could you turn around, please?’ she asked.

‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Zayn’s instructions.’ Louis did as she asked and looked at the opposite door. ‘Mmmh. Give me another second.’ She closed the door again, ran, and was back again. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Louis,’ she said, now with a big smile. ‘Zayn says you can wait in the living room. He’s not quite finished yet, but won’t take long.’

Louis was a bit confused by all this. ‘And you are…?’ he said as he sat on the sofa.

‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ she excused herself, sitting with him. ‘How rude of me. I’m Perrie!’

‘Nice to meet you, I guess. Question.’

‘Tell me what you think about me,’ she sang.

‘What?’

‘Sorry. I went a little Beyoncé there.’

‘Ok… What was all that turn around thing about?’ he asked.

‘Oh, Zayn told me I would know it was you by your ass.’

‘… my ass?’

‘Yes, you have a nice one,’ she laughed.

He let out a polite but visually uneasy fake laugh and then there was an uncomfortable silent in the living room. Perrie was holding a cup of tea in her hands while Louis drummed with his fingers against his knee.

‘So,’ he finally said, trying to break the ice, ‘Harry and Zayn’s friend, right?’

‘Well, Harry’s friend, Zayn’s girlfriend,’ she answered.

Louis was confused. ‘Girlfriend?’

‘Yeah,’ she said with a smile. ‘I mean, a man as handsome as him being single is rather difficult, right?’

‘Well, I meant… I thought he was…’

‘Gay?’ Zayn voice said from his bedroom, which made Louis jump in his seat. ‘These walls are very thin, love.’

‘Come on, Zayn,’ said Perrie with a joking smile, ‘you know it’s not right to listen to other people’s conversations.’

‘Nor is talking about someone behind his back,’ he answered back, getting out of the room. ‘Come, Louis. Need you to try this on.’

Louis stood up and followed him gingerly as Perrie was left there watching TV. ‘So,’ said he after Zayn closed the door behind them, ‘girlfriend, right?’

‘Is it weird that I have one?’

‘No, not at all, it’s just that I thought… well…’

‘You thought I was gay,’ he finished the sentence. ‘And the reason you thought that was?’

‘Oh, well, I think I heard you talk about someone’s dick the other day with Nick? When we went out?’

‘Good answer,’ he said. ‘Cause if you said it was because I dressed up as a woman for a living, I would had thrown you out of the window.’

‘So, you like girls and dicks too?’ asked Louis.

‘I’m what I call a CCA.’

‘A what?’

‘Cock and Cunt Appreciator,’ he laughed. ‘See? I can make jokes too, and better than Harry’s.’

Louis almost choked. ‘Cock and Cunt Appreciator? You mean bisexual?’

‘Yup. Although I can find anyone attractive, really, whether they are transgender, agender, or gender fluid, like Harry. So you could say more like pansexual but really, it sounds like I like to have sex with pans,’ Zayn explained. He looked more comfortable with Louis than before. The small guy was growing on him. ‘So, what do you say you try the dress on, mate?’

 

After minutes of trying to put Louis’ dress on—‘Jesus Christ, mate, what’ve you been eating?’ Zayn had said—they succeeded. It was a very classy dress, with a modest cut, like the kind a woman in her forties would dress if she wanted to feel beautiful without being too provocative. It was made of vibrant red sequins. It did not have much cleavage, but to be fair Louis did not have the tools to really use it.

‘So,’ said Zayn, ‘what d’you think? You like it?’

‘I look… strange,’ he said.

‘Oh my God, you don’t like it.’ Zayn sounded devastated.

‘No, no! I mean, I just look weird. I’m not used to wearing dresses. I look like… I dunno…’

‘A boy in a dress?’

‘Yeah, not like you. You actually look like a girl in drag.’

‘That’s maybe because you don’t have any make up on. Also, the scruff and hair in your arms and legs ain’t helping. We’ll have to shave it all. Everywhere’

‘Everywhere?’ asked Louis.

‘Everywhere, Renly my king,’ Zayn joked. ‘See? I told you I can make jokes too. Come on, I’ll show you how to shave your legs without turning the bath into a scene from a horror movie.’


	12. Six Inches

‘So, how’s Zayn doing with the new guy?’ asked Ed from his bed at the hospital. ‘It sure didn’t take him long to replace me.’

‘He’s not replacing you,’ Harry explained, ‘it’s just while you’re here.’

‘That’s sounds like a replacement to me,’ he said, but his tone was far from angry or annoyed. Ed was never angry at anyone.

Harry had decided to pay Ed a visit that day. He remembered how scared he was when they first got the call from the hospital. Ed was not even conscious when they arrived and did not wake up for another three days. Luckily, he was now getting better, but it will still be long until he was ready to walk again, let alone work, with both legs in casts.

‘It’s not. As soon as you get well, you’ll get your place back. I mean, Louis doesn’t seem that eager to be where he’s at, so I think he’ll gladly give it back,’ said Harry.

‘At least tell me he does a good Bernadette.’

‘Well, to be honest I’ve not seen him perform yet, but Zayn says he’s got both the potential and the attitude.’

‘That’s code for “he’s terrible”,’ the ginger declared.

‘No, it’s not… We just don’t know yet.’

‘Jesus Christ, he’s going to be a terrible Bernadette, I can see it.’

‘I hate it when you are so negative, Ed,’ said Harry, with half a smile.

‘Wow, that’s new; I didn’t know you hated things, Mr. I Love Everyone And Everything.’

‘Hey, I can hate things.’

‘Give me another example.’

‘I hate olives, and also when Zayn tries to wear blond wigs.’

‘He doesn’t get that he’s not Beyoncé.’

‘No need to tell me; I’m the one living with him.’ He laughed and so did Ed. Out of the three drag queens, Harry liked him the most: Zayn was like an overprotective brother, the one who would get into a fight to defend his little brothers without a doubt; Nick was like that asshole big brother that always teased and kind of bullied you, but never in bad faith; and Ed was that brother you could tell anything, because he would always be there to help you and make you feel better. The thought made Harry miss his big sister — his actual sister — a bit. He made a mental note to call her when he arrived home. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘any idea when you can leave the hospital?’

‘They said I could leave by the end of next week, but they won’t take the casts off for another two weeks after that.’

‘At least you will be able to see the show,’ said Harry.

‘I’ll be there, front row, judging hard, tomatoes at the ready.’ They laughed again. ‘I can’t wait to take these off,’ he said, knocking the cast in his left leg as if knocking on a door. ‘It’s going to look like a jungle down there.’

‘It could be worse.’

‘Do tell how.’

‘You could be Zayn.’

Ed laughed so hard he coughed. ‘Water,’ he said, and Harry obliged him, filling a glass and handing it to him. Ed drank. ‘Thanks. God, I thought I was a goner there. Jesus Christ, yes, Zayn would have it so much worse. When was the last time he willingly spent a day without shaving?’

‘He tried to go au naturel one summer three years ago. He’s the definition of otter, I’m telling you. And of course, then came September.’

‘I don’t even want to ask how long it took him to take it off. I still remember when you two caught swine flu. After that, he spent a whole hour just to wax one leg!’

‘Yes, I remember. It was as if he had been shearing a sheep in there.’

‘Jesus.’ Ed then thought of something. ‘What about the new guy?’

‘Oh, God,’ said Harry. ‘I hadn’t thought of Louis.’

‘Is he as hairy as Zayn?’

‘Not that much, no, but he does have quite some body hair and he doesn’t look like the kind of person that had ever shaved it.’

‘I’ll have him in my prayers,’ Ed said, trying not to laugh.

‘Come on, it’s not that bad. You make it sound like Zayn’s gonna torture him.’

 

Far from there, in Zayn and Harry’s bathroom, Louis screamed in pain. ‘Jesus fucking Christ!’

‘Stop complaining,’ Zayn said, throwing aside a strip of wax full of hair.

‘It fucking hurts!’

‘You’re just not used to it.’

‘Zayn,’ Perrie interrupted, ‘wouldn’t it be better to trim it a bit before waxing?’

‘You could do that?!’ Louis shouted.

‘I know what I’m doing, Perrie, thank you,’ he said as he applied more wax. ‘Breathe, Lewis.’

‘I told you it’s not Lewis, it’s **Jesus fucking fuck**!!!’

 

‘I’m sure Zayn is gonna try to make it as painless as possible for Louis,’ said Harry. ‘Don’t you think?’

‘Mmmh, I’m not that sure,’ Ed laughed.

‘I trust Zayn.’ Harry looked at his watch and saw that it was getting late. ‘I should get going; I have to buy groceries and I also need to pick up a parcel for Zayn at the post office,’ he said, then stood up and hugged Ed. ‘Be a good boy and don’t flirt with the nurse.’

‘The nurse? Come on, have you seen him? He’s ugly, fat, too short for me.’

‘He rejected you, didn’t he?’ he interrupted.

‘Shut the fuck up, Styles.’ And they laughed again.

 

Nearly an hour after that torture Zayn had put him through, Louis had started to feel somehow better about his legs. They looked so weird like that; completely hairless and smooth. Zayn had also insisted on shaving him, and that part at least had been more pleasant. He now looked a couple of years younger. In fact, with the sudden loss of his legs’ body hair — Louis had refused to let Zayn touch his arms or chest immediately after his legs because there was just so much pain he could bear and he was sure as fuck not going to let him get anywhere near his dick like, what was the point? It was not like he was going to be naked on stage… right? — Louis felt like he could pass as a prepubescent boy again.

Zayn had said they could take some time from the shaving and waxing and start practicing some lip-synching. Perrie was in charge of the music, and when Zayn told her to press play, Louis recognised the notes, but not the lyrics, which were changed. He was sure it was _Girl on Fire_ , but the singers talked about someone being a bottom? What did Grindr mean? Vers? Twink? What on Earth was this? He knew he could just ask Zayn, but he was suddenly so into the music, dancing in six-inch heels — emphasis on “six-inch heels” — and mimicking singing. There he was, a six-foot-three-in-heels half-Pakistani man with a five o’clock shadow that had decided to show up earlier at noon lip-synching about “a total top’s total dream”, whatever that meant, but Louis had the feeling it was something sexual. It was not something you saw every day.

The first two times, Louis just sat there, trying to memorise both the lyrics and Zayn’s choreography, and after that, it was his turn. Half way through the song, the music stopped at Zayn’s request. Apparently, Louis was terrible.

‘You’re doing it wrong,’ he said, positioning himself behind Louis. ‘Let me show you.’ He held Louis’ arms to show him when and where to raise them, then the hips, which felt rather intrusive, to be honest. ‘Left, right, then right again, sway your pelvis like this, raise your arm like that, see? Even Nick could do it and you know how bad of a dancer he is.’

‘Can’t we go a little slower?’ Louis asked, trying to catch his breath.

‘Believe me, slow songs are harder to dance and lip-synch to while making them entertaining. Okay, Perrie,’ he said to his girlfriend, ‘back from the top. We’re starting again, and this time look at how I do it, you hear me?’

Louis groaned so loudly they might have heard him all the way from Scotland.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. Perrie, hit it.’

 

They kept going at it with different songs until Zayn decided it was enough. Louis’ feet were hurting. Zayn was going too fast for his liking; they should have tried to get him used to walk in heels before trying to dance in them. He fell more than once and he ended up face-first on the floor, and that was basically the reason Zayn had decided to stop; last thing he needed was another person injured.

‘Let’s take five,’ said Zayn, taking off his high heels and sitting on the sofa between Perrie and Louis, who had a bag of ice covering his face.

‘I think you’re trying to do too much at once, Zayn,’ she said. ‘He’s going to collapse.’

‘We don’t have that much time either, though. The show’s in three weeks and…’

From under the bag of ice, Louis protested, almost jumping off of the sofa. ‘ **Three weeks**?! You said it was a month!’

‘Yes. Two weeks ago.’ Zayn was way too calm. Why was he so calm? Because Louis was panicking. ‘Don’t worry; it’ll be enough time to get you ready.’

Louis put the bag of ice on his face again, hoping it would freeze him in time. Three weeks! He couldn’t even follow a basic choreography and walk in heels and he had to perform in front of a horde of half-past-drunk guys in three weeks. Save me, Barry.

Suddenly, Zayn’s words resonated in his head again: _she likes you, you idiot_. He had not thought of that in the last couple of days, but that very night he had been rolling back and forth in bed, not sure of what to do, or if he had to do anything at all. Harry was a nice person and all, but Louis was straight. One hundred per cent heterosexual. No homo… Although, deep inside… maybe…

Someone knocked on the door and it sounded like it was done with a foot. ‘Can somebody open the door? My hands are full.’ It was Harry’s voice. ‘Thank you,’ he said after Zayn had gotten up and opened the door. He had a couple of plastic Tesco bags in each hand and a parcel hold tight under his arm.

‘Is that ours?’ asked Zayn, pointing at the package. Harry nodded and the other took it. ‘At last.’

‘If you’re not too busy, could you, you know, help me with the bags too?’ asked Harry, trying to sound sarcastic. It did not suit him.

‘Ah, yes, of course,’ said Zayn and took the lightest bag, which he put in the kitchen counter before running to his bedroom with the parcel. ‘Come on, Perrie! It’s our you-know-what!’

Perrie apologised for Zayn and followed him, closing the door behind her. Louis, however, set the bag of ice aside and helped Harry with the bags. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘What happened to your face? Are you hurt?’

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ he answered. ‘I just fell and hit my face against the floor trying to walk in those damned high heels Zayn gave me. Did you know the show is in three weeks?’

‘You didn’t?’

Louis sighed as he helped Harry put the groceries in their respective places. ‘I thought I’d have more time. I’m starting to feel a tad stressed, to be honest.’

Harry then did something Louis was not expecting. It was not a big deal, really, but the big hug he received was somehow… warming. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Harry, ‘you’re gonna get it right.’ He broke the hug. ‘Fancy some noodles? Or do you have plans for the evening?’

Louis was still feeling the warmth of Harry’s arms around him. What was this feeling? He had hugged Liam and Niall before and he had never felt so strange. He was confused. ‘No,’ he almost whispered, ‘I don’t have any plans.’

‘Noodles then?’

‘Yeah. Sounds good.’ He smiled. Harry smiled. Both smiled like idiots for a while. What a pair of smiling idiots.

 

They were eating their second cup of curry noodles and watching some telly — Louis had never watched _Parks and Recreation_ before and now he wondered why it took him so long to do it — when Harry asked ‘What you think those two are up to?’ He meant Perrie and Zayn, who had been in the latter’s room since Harry had arrived.

‘I think I know, but I’d rather not say.’ He laughed.

‘What you think was in that parcel? I say a strap-on.’

‘What’s a strap-on?’

Harry took a sip of what was left of his cup. ‘Well, it’s like a dildo with a harness that girls can put on and it’s as if they had a penis. I think it’s usually used by lesbians, but some guys like it when their girlfriends do it to them, and Zayn being Zayn, it wouldn’t surprise me.’ It took Louis all of his mental power not to imagine Zayn lying on his back, legs spread eagled, with Perrie thrusting against him. He shook his head, as if trying to make the thought fall out of his brain, and Harry laughed. ‘You’ve never seen it?’

‘I didn’t even know it was _a thing_ , really.’

‘It’s called pegging. Google it when you get home, if you’re brave enough,’ said Harry, drinking the last of the noodle sauce. ‘Talking about home, it’s getting rather late.’

Louis looked at his watch. ‘Fuck, it’s ten already? Liam’s gonna kill me.’ He eat whatever remained of his noodles, put his shoes back on — he had been barefoot since he took Zayn’s heels off, to let his feet rest — and his jacket. ‘I guess I’ll see you soon, then? I don’t think Zayn’s gonna give me much spare time until I’ve mastered the art of dancing in motherfucking high heels.’ He laughed to himself.

‘Yeah. See you around.’ Harry stood up and accompanied him to the door, where he gave him another hug. This time, Louis reciprocated. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye,’ he said, and started walking, still feeling the hug and smiling like the smiling idiot he was. _She likes you, you idiot_.

 

The tube was a mess; there were way too many people and the trains were way too late that night. Due to all this, Louis did not manage to get home until past eleven. ‘Liam’s gonna kill me,’ he thought. ‘Well, it’s not like he’s my father, right? What’s he gonna do?’ He imagined Liam’s voice in his head, only with a slightly older tone. ‘Curfew was at ten, young man.’ ‘I know, daddy Liam, but the train was late.’ ‘Then you should have left earlier. Are you drunk?’ ‘No, daddy Liam.’ ‘Are you high?’ ‘No, daddy Liam, but I’ve been wearing high heels, don’t know if that counts as being high.’ He had to cover his mouth to stop himself for laughing out loud in the middle of the street.

He entered his building and took the lift. When it arrived to the third floor, he took out his keys and opened the door carefully. Liam was probably asleep already and he did not want to wake him up. Well, that and he still had the image of middle aged Liam dressed in a suit, smoking a pipe and scolding Louis for being late. It reminded him of his teenage years, when he sneaked back into his own house as quiet as a mouse to avoid waking up his mother and sisters.

He entered the flat and closed the door behind him. Everything was dark, which meant Liam was already in bed. Either that or they had no electricity. He hit the switch and it worked, therefore it was the first—

‘It’s late.’

Louis screamed so loud he could feel his own lungs leaving him through the throat. Sitting in a chair facing the door was Liam, arms crossed. He was not older, was not wearing a suit or smoking a pipe, but he was smoking a cigarette and he did not look happy.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, Liam!’ Louis shouted when his heart started beating again. ‘Do you want to kill me or what!?’

‘We need to talk, Louis.’


	13. You Don't Care About Me Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for spending like half a year without posting, but I'm trying to get back on this one and possibly finish it before the end of August so I can move on to other projects.

'We need to talk, Louis,' Liam had said. 'Now.'

'Can't it wait till the morning? I'm knackered.'

'No, it can't. Now,' he ordered, giving the cigarette a puff as he stood up from his chair in front of the door, walked to the sofa and sat down again. He pointed at the other armchair with his head. 'Sit down.'

This was the first time Louis had seen his best friend this serious. Actually, no, it was the second time, Louis recalled, but he could not for the life of him remember when or why it was; he just remembered that it was ages ago. Reluctantly, he did as Liam asked, walking towards the chair dragging his feet on the carpet. He coughed; the room was full of smoke even with the windows open, which also made the place cold, especially for a summer's night. The smoke of the cigarette went up to the ceiling and out of the window with slow and swirling motions in a rather hypnotic way, like light fabric underwater.

'I thought you stopped smoking,' Louis pointed out after he sat down. That armchair had never been as uncomfortable as it was in that moment.

'Well, I guess I'm starting again,' was Liam's dry answer. Even if he tried to look calm and collected, Louis could tell he was tense by how tightly he held the cigarette, as if the fate of the Universe depended on him not letting it fall.

'You alright, buddy?' Louis asked, putting a hand on Liam's knee. Liam moved his leg away from his touch. 'Is something wrong?'

'No, I'm not alright, and yes, something's wrong: you.' Liam's voice started to acquire a certain tone of anger, but it was still quiet enough to avoid waking the neighbours up.

Louis, who had leaned towards him, was caught unprepared by his answer and leant back. 'Me? What's wrong with me?'

'Oh, I don't know, Louis. Maybe the fact that you're abandoning your old friends for new, shinier ones?'

'What?' Louis was the first to raise his voice. 'The fuck you’re on about?'

'Ask Ripley.'

'Who the fuck is Ripley?'

'You'd know if you had come to watch _Alien_ with us tonight as you said you would!' Liam exploded.

Louis remained silent. Liam did not say another word, waiting for his answer. The room was quiet enough to hear someone in the flat below getting out of the bed and turning on the lights. Liam's shout had very likely woken some people up.

'I'm sorry,' said Louis. 'I guess I forgot.'

'You guess you forgot, I guess we just aren't interesting enough for you anymore.'

'That's not...'

'Surely that new Harry boy is waaay more interesting to hang out with.'

'Liam, stop.'

'Or is it a girl now? You can never know with that kind of people.'

'That's enough, Liam!' he shouted. There was a noise of someone hitting the wall, probably another neighbour unable to sleep due to their argument. 'Leave Harry out of this, alright?'

'Is he your boyfriend now? Have you turned gay now?'

'Shut the fuck up, Liam!' Louis was the one exploding now, standing up from his seat, knuckles white from clenching his fists.

'Shut it already, for fuck's sake!' someone shouted from one of the other flats. 'Some of us have to work!'

A smirk formed in Liam’s face. 'Now you've woken up the neighbours.'

'You started it.'

'So are you?' he asked again, trying to wind him up even more. 'Do you fancy him?'

'No.' The answer was quick, but that did not mean that Louis was one hundred per cent sure of it himself. He had never fancied boys; it was not like he was hiding something. He would not even look at other guys' penises in the showers after P.E. class when he was going through puberty. The other boys would take peeks at each other out of curiosity or to compare — Liam had confirmed most still did at the gym, him included, every now and then — but not Louis. He had a dick of his own, why would he want to look at someone else's? He was not sexually interested in boys in the slightest, and yet Harry did something to him. They made him doubt. They made him consider it a possibility to just find someone attractive by their personality alone, regarding of what was between their legs. It was a lot for someone he had only known for less than a month.

'If you don't, then tell me what's so amazing about him that you casually forget about your actual friends,' said Liam.

'Harry is my friend too.'

'How long have we known each other, Louis?' asked Liam, giving the fag another puff.

'What?'

'You don't remember?'

'Of course I remember,' Louis protested. 'We met when we were six, but why this question now?'

'And how long have you and Harry known each other?'

'I don't know, three weeks? A couple of days more than that?'

'Then tell me what's so amazing about him that makes you forget about a friend you've had for the last sixteen years, Louis.'

'Well, he doesn't get jealous just because I spend time with other friends as well like you right now.'

'I'm not jealous!' Liam suddenly raised his voice.

'Then why are you so mad about it? Admit it!'

'I am **not** jealous, Louis!'

Louis then remembered the last time Liam had acted this way. 'This is exactly what happened when I met Niall!'

'No, it's not!'

'It is!'

Louis had met Niall during his first year of uni, back when he thought he wanted to be a lawyer before dropping out. He had talked to him during a class group project and they started to hang out. Liam had gotten overly pissed out when he found out and had made a scene just like this one. He was jealous of Louis having another friend that was not him. Then he had met Niall in person, they both got along well and Liam went back to his normal self.

'You just can't stand the fact that I can make more friends, can you?'

'You swore you would never bring this up again, Tomlinson!'

'And you swore you wouldn't act like this again, _Payne_ ,' he said, making especial emphasis on the surname. Two could play that game. 'I'm sure if you got to know him, you'd find he's a nice person. You may even get along just fine.'

'I don't want to get along with _him_!'

More neighbours could be heard waking up and protesting, Louis thought he heard one old-sounding lady say she was going to call the police.

'Why not?'

'I don't need a reason.'

'You kinda do, Payne.'

'I don't like him!'

'But why?'

'Because he's not normal, okay?!'

The atmosphere then got so tense you would not be able to cut it with a knife: you would need a diamond to do it. No, actually, you would need one of those lasers used to cut diamonds. In other words, it was not a comfortable atmosphere. Louis was silent at first, trying to take it in. _He's not normal._ What did him mean by that? He then realised, and he got angry, as if the insult was directed at him. Say whatever you want about Louis Tomlinson, but insult his friends and he will take it personally. It was unfair. Harry actually liked Liam, for what they had told Louis, so why did Liam have to be such a massive cunt now?

'Take that back.'

'Take what back?' said Liam. 'He's not normal.'

'Take it back, Liam, or so help me.'

'Why? You worried your ladyboyfriend would cry if he heard me?'

Louis was not responsible for what his body did next. He was not proud of it after he came to his senses later, but at the moment, it was the inner animal taking control of him. He clenched his fist tight and punched Liam in the face. He did not care that Liam was taller and stronger than him, nor that he would most likely punch him back. All he wanted was to punch Liam, even if he got beaten up in the process.

Liam was not expecting the punch at all. Louis had never done that and, to him, it was the proof he needed: Louis did not care about him anymore. He had been replaced. He touched his lips to find out he had a slight bleeding. He looked at Louis, whose face was gradually changing from _I'm gonna fuck you up mate_ to _oh fuck_ , and with good reason, because Liam did not hesitate to fight back. His punch was stronger than Louis’, and it sent the boy back into the armchair with a whimper.

Louis held his hand against the place Liam had hit, holding back tears of pain. He looked up at Liam, waiting for him to say something, but none of them did. After what felt like hours, Louis got up, took his keys and ran out of the flat. He slammed the door, making as much noise as he could, so he did not hear Liam saying _Louis, I'm sorry, please don’t_ at the last minute.


	14. My Svadhishthana Taste Like Cola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were not really thinking I'd be able to get my arse up and actually finish this before the end of August as I said I wanted to, right?

The pain in his face and how uncomfortable the sofa was were what made it difficult for Louis to fall asleep, and it was the pain in his back and Zayn cooking what woke him up way earlier than that he would have liked. After his fight with Liam, his first option had been Niall's apartment, but then he thought that Liam might go look for him there first, and he did not know if Niall was angry at him too, so he decided to go back to Harry's. Fortunately they were still both awake and let him sleep on the sofa. Now Zayn was in the kitchen, making a lot of noise, so he had no choice but to get up. He had dark circles under his eyes and was in extreme need of some source of caffeine.

'Good morning, Sleeping Booty,' said Zayn when he noticed Louis was awake. 'I guess saying you didn't sleep well would be an understatement, right?'

'Dead on,' answered him, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

'Told you you should have slept in Harry's bed. They don't mind.'

'No, no. I'm a guest here. It's enough that you guys let me stay, I'm not gonna force Harry to sleep on the couch,' Louis explained.

Zayn shrugged his shoulders and went back to the cooker. 'I actually didn't mean Harry'd have to sleep on the couch, though,' he whispered to himself so Louis would not hear him.

Harry then got out of her room, wearing only an extra-large Adventure Time T-shirt, a pair of white and blue stripped pants, and her _She_ necklace. 'G'morning,' she said, just as half-asleep as Louis.

'Morning. I'm making eggs,' said Zayn. 'You want some?'

'Not really, no.'

'Alright. Louis? Please tell me you want eggs.'

'Sorry, I don't usually have eggs for breakfast. Just tea or coffe.'

'Great,' groaned Zayn, 'there goes my cholesterol then, 'cause I already fried six.'

Harry smiled at Louis, as if Zayn's cholesterol was the most amusing thing at the moment, and sat with him. 'How did you sleep?'

'You need a softer couch. I'm joking,' he clarified when he saw guilt on her face.

'If it's so bad, you can always sleep in my room. I don't mind.'

'No, it's not fair. I mean, I just came uninvited last night; last thing I want is to be a burden,' he said.

'We can always put a mattress in your room, eh, Hazza?' came Zayn's voice from the kitchen.

'You don't need to...' started Louis, but Harry interrupted him. 'I don't mind. It'd be like when Zayn and I were kids and had sleepovers just the two of us. Remember, Zayn?'

'Yes,' said the cook, coming out of the kitchen holding a tray with Louis' breakfast: a cuppa, some toasts, butter, and a muffin. Louis doubted he could eat it all, but he did not want Zayn to murder him, which was what he supposed would happen if he declined the offer. 'I also remember your sister trying to dress us up in her clothes as if we were her dolls.'

'I thought it was fun.'

'There was nothing fun about her lack of style, which is ironic having in mind your surname.' He laughed. 'Fuck me, I'm funny.'

 

Louis had stayed with them for a couple of days before getting a call from Niall just as he was helping Harry at the grocery store. Zayn and Harry were planning a small dinner party to which only Nick, Perrie, and of course Louis were invited. At first, Louis refused, saying he did not want to be a nuisance, but Harry had insisted. 'It'll cheer you up,' he had said. And how could he resist the Bambi eyes? How could anyone? Harry could go to 10 Downing Street, ask the prime minister for a couple of nuclear missiles and he would get away with it.

Louis was pushing the trolley through the spices and condiments isle as Harry checked the shopping list Zayn had given them. 'Do you see the parsley anywhere?' asked Harry, looking up and down the shelves.

'Maybe they've ran out of it?'

'Nope!' Harry exclaimed, victorious, as he reached for one of the upper shelves. 'Here it is!' He put the parsley in the trolley and crossed it from the list. 'Let's see: we've got the chicken, the aubergines, the parsley, the garlic... Wait, where are the courgettes?' he asked, not seeing them anywhere among the rest of the things.

'Didn't you pick them up before?' asked Louis.

'No, I thought you got them while I went for the aubergines.'

'Oh... I thought I was in charge of tomatoes,' Louis apologised. 'I'll go get them. Won't take long,' he said and left the trolley with Harry as he went back to the vegetables.

It was there, as he inspected the courgettes to get the best ones, when his phone ringed. He picked it up automatically, not even looking at the number, and before he could even say "'ello, who this?', he was greeted by Niall's strong Irish accent. It was not a good sign when his accent was this thick, because it often meant something was wrong.

'Louis, wha ye? Is Liam witcha?' said Niall, speaking so fast all his words got crumpled up together.

'What?' he asked.

'We were gonna meet at de pool t'day, but 'e 'as not showed up, so oi called 'im ter check if 'e wus OK, but 'e is not answerin' 'is phone!'

'I literally got like three words. Vocalise, Niall!'

'Feckin feck. I said, is Liam with you? He's not answering his phone and he's worrying me!'

Louis seemed uncomfortable. 'He's not.'

'Any idea where he could be? When was the last time you saw him?'

'Friday.'

'De feck ye mean Froiday?! It's fecking Tuesday!'

'We had a fight and I've not been home since then, okay?' Louis blurted out finally. Niall was silent for a solid moment, which Louis used to pick the courgettes. 'Niall?'

'I didn't know... Why where you fighting? What happened?'

'Go and ask him. I really don't want to talk about him or to him,' said Louis, although Niall had passed part of his worries about Liam on to him. What if something had actually happened to him? Louis shook his head, trying to take that thought out of his mind. 'Look, I'm busy now. Just go to the flat and check on him. And I'm sorry for missing movie night at your house.'

He then hanged up the phone before Niall could say anything else and went back to Harry and the trolley. He was checking something on his phone when he heard Louis approaching and greeted him with a smile. 'You sure took your time, Tomlinson.' He seemed to notice something on Louis expression. 'Everything alright?'

'Yes, yes. Had to check for the best ones,' he said as he put the vegetables in the trolley with the rest of the groceries.

 

The dinner did not go exactly bad, honestly. To be fair, Zayn and Harry's ratatouille was actually good. Better than he expected. And it was not that the rest ignored him or anything; they were actually trying to get him into the conversation. The problem was that he had no idea what they were talking about most of the time.

'I can't believe Purple Doodah won _Ruple's Drag Race_!' Nick said dramatically, as if he were talking about the Da'ish destroying another historical site.

'Why not?' said Zayn. 'She was perfect on the show. Right mug, right dresses, right all.'

'But she was a bitch!'

'Well, it's not _Ruple's Best Friends Race_ , now is it?'

'Who did you want to win, Nick?' asked Perrie.

'Brit Milano. She was perfect and a sweetheart.'

'Of course you would prefer the Jew,' said Zayn, rolling his eyes.

Louis had no idea who Purple Doodah, Brit Milano or Ruple were, let alone what a drag race was, and so he felt left out of the whole conversation, even if they did not mean it.

'What d'ya think, Louis?' asked Nick. 'Who do you think should have won?'

'I... I have no idea what we're talking about...' he confessed.

Nick looked utterly shocked by this declaration and turned to Zayn. 'I thought a drag mother was supposed to educate her children, Veronica! Shame on you!'

'Shut up, Nicki.'

After dinner was over, everyone was a little bit tipsy, especially Nick, and, not feeling the party was over yet, they decided to play some music. Again, it was music Louis had either never heard of before or by artists he knew by name, but whose music he had never really had an interest in: they had Share, Riohanna, Atomic Puppy, songs about sashaying away—God knows where to—and other things Louis was about ninety per cent sure were sexual euphemisms. At any rate, Zayn and Nick were 'living for it.' Their words, not Louis'.

Louis' phone beeped during a Lama del Rey song—' _My Svadhishthana taste like cola_ '—and he found a message from Niall: 'Call me. Now!' He excused himself to Harry and went to the room they had been sharing so he could talk in private. It took Niall a fraction of a second to pick up the phone.

'Louis, you need to come back!'

'Is Liam dead?'

'No, he's here, he's fine, but you have to talk.'

'If he's alive and kicking,' Louis interrupted, 'then good for him.' He would not confess that he was now feeling a bit better, knowing Liam had not done anything stupid. He was still angry at him, but he was not the kind of person to wish someone's death.

'I mean it, Lou. You two have to talk this out.'

'Did he tell you how he almost knocked me out? How he insulted me and Harry too? Friends don't do that shit.'

'Yes, yes, I know, but you're both my friends and I'm not gonna be like one of those children with divorced parents! I don't wanna have to choose who I spent the day with.'

Louis rubbed his temples with the fingers of his free hand. 'So I should just forgive him like nothing happened and come back because oh poor you, right?'

'Louis, please...'

'Good joke, Horan. Go fuck yourself.'

He hanged the phone angrily and turned the sound off. He should have known Niall would take Liam's side in this. He did most of the time: whether it was something silly like choosing what channel to watch or game to play, or something more serious like that one time Louis had accused Liam of going after a girl he was interested in and Niall had defended him, saying he probably 'just didn't know you fancied her, mate'.

'You alright, honeybun?'

Louis had almost jumped out of his own skin, no expecting anyone to be there. At first he thought it was Harry—it was his room, after all—but the voice just did not match. He then realised it was Nick. His nose was red by the alcohol and he was sporting a little smirk as he walked towards Louis. He seemed to have problems walking in a straight line, though, so “zigzagged towards Louis” would be more a more accurate choice of words.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' lied Louis. 'Don't worry.'

'Good, good. Can I ask you something?' He was now barely some inches away from Louis, too close to be comfortable.

'I guess?' said Louis.

'Do you find me attractive?' Had Louis been drinking, he would have spat it all like they did in some comedy films. Instead, he was just silent and turning red. He would have preferred the drink scenario; it was less embarrassing. 'Well, aren't you a cutie, red all over,' laughed Nick and, to Louis' horror, leant in to kiss him.

Louis tried to avoid him using his perfected _Cobra Technique_ : moving his head to either side quickly, like the eponymous snake, to avoid Nick as he tried to kiss him.

'Stay still,' he said. 'There’s no need to be shy.'

As Louis was about to protest, Nick hold his shoulders and planted his lips on Louis'. It was not a good kiss: Nick's breath smelled of too much alcohol and was trying to open up Louis' mouth with his tongue. Louis tried to get the man off him, but Nick turnt up to be a strong drunkard. He tried to scream for help, but without opening his mouth, lest he gave Nick open access to his tongue. He really, **really** did not want this.

'Get off him!' a voice said behind Nick and someone took him by the back of the neck of the shirt, getting him away from Louis, who fell to the floor with a deer caught in the headlights look in his face. Zayn was now holding Nick by the arms and taking him away to the living room—the man offered no resistance—and it had been Harry who had shouted. He ran to Louis. 'Are you alright? I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked Nick to come check on you. He gets... well, _weird_ when he's drunk. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!' Louis did not understand why he was apologising; it was not Harry's fault at all!

'I'm okay, I'm okay,' he said, although it was not entirely truth; he was actually scared, thinking what could have happened if Harry and Zayn had not gotten in in time. He could not help thinking about Liam, remembering that day they had gone to "save" him. Now the concept of saving Liam did not seem as comical as it did at first.

Nick left shortly after and everyone decided it was best to end the day there. Louis did not protest when Harry got in his bed and hugged him to sleep. He thought of what Zayn had told him once: ‘he likes you, you idiot.’ Now, his own voice talked to him in his head: ‘you like him, you idiot.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lama del Rey's "My Svadhishthana taste like cola" is now available on iTunes.


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